The Hardest Part
by thestupidgenius1123
Summary: "I should have gone with him," I whispered fervently. My body started rocking nervously. I could feel Dr. Jackson's gaze as he said, "Max, are you saying you wish you were dead?" I looked up, staring into his curious eyes. "Yes." Fax. AU/AH. Rated TEEN. [Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. All rights reserved to James Patterson. No infringement or copyright intended.]
1. Chapter 1

**The Hardest Part**

**A/N: I am soooo nervous for this story. Hope you guys like it. **

**Um…I have legitimate reasons why this is way, way early…mostly because later this month I am CRAZY busy. Anyways, instead of my giving you a million reasons why I'm starting this story early, just review and tell me what you think of it! **

**I have about…17 chapters of this written out, and I'm looking at about twenty overall. Maybe, **_**maybe **_**more. Stick with me. And I promise, this is a FAX story. **

**[Summary: "I should have gone with him," I whispered fervently. My body started rocking nervously. I could feel Dr. Jackson's gaze as he said, "Max, are you saying you wish you were dead?" I looked up, staring into his curious eyes. "Yes." Fax. AU/AH.]**

**THIS IS A FAX FIC. THIS IS A FAX FIC. THIS IS A FAX FIC.**

**Read on.**

_And every whisper, every sigh, eats away at this heart of mine. _

_- Sweet Nothing, Calvin Harris ft. Florence Welch_

MAX

"Hello, Max," Sheryl said, holding the phone away from her face. Sheryl was the secretary. The fact that I was on a first name basis with the therapist's secretary was sickening. The fact that everyone in town was on a first name basis with each other lightened the blow a little, but not much. I forced a smile toward her, trying to be socially acceptable and polite. It was hard work, for a girl like me.

"Hey, Sheryl," I said, keeping my voice quiet. There were other people in the lobby and I didn't feel like drawing attention to myself. Dr. Jackson's tiny office building was on the edge of Hayden, Virginia, our miniscule town of 204 people, in counting. It wasn't like me to announce to the entire town that I needed psychological help - in fact, even Nudge didn't know this was where I went after school Mondays and Fridays.

"He's ready for you, sweetheart, you can go right on in," she said enthusiastically, as if I had just won a game. I tried not to grimace until I was sure she couldn't see me.

Down the hall, I knocked once before walking into Dr. Jackson's office. He was sitting behind his desk, opening a folder - my patient folder. I sighed and walked over to my chair, taking a seat. He stood, greeted me, and sat across from me.

"Do you mind if I record this session?" he asked, right on schedule. I shook my head. Dr. Jackson clicked on the recorder and set it down on the small table beside him.

"It is four fifteen on Friday, February second. Max Ride is here for a one-hour session," he said into the recorder he used every time I was there. "Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?"

I shook my head, as per usual. Just like every session, at four fifteen, when Dr. Jackson asked me if I wanted a drink.

My arm rested in the same place on the same cushiony armchair that it always did. My fingers took up the familiar, nervous habit of picking at the loose string on the fabric under my hand. I stared straight ahead at the Picasso painting on the wall opposite of me, behind Dr. Jackson's desk. It was one back from his 'blue period', which was really all I know about it. It was a picture of a woman, facing away. She was curled up, hugging herself.

I would think a shrink would strive to have happier artwork in his office.

Dr. Jackson and I went through the same, boring routine. The same questions, the same answers. How was school? _Fine._ Do you have homework? _Not much. _How are you feeling today? _Okay. _What's on your mind? _Nothing. _Anything you want to talk about today? _No._

But even though I could run through the first twenty minutes of our usual sessions with my eyes closed, Jackson liked to keep me guessing with a few curveballs. He tried his best to get me to talk. But I didn't want to be there - I never wanted to be there.

"Listen, Jack," I said. I called him Jack because Dr. Jackson's real name was Richard, and I couldn't shorten Richard without insinuating something ridiculously inappropriate. Adding to the list of problems I already had, one of them couldn't be that I was making innuendos about my shrink's name. "Nothing has changed much since Monday's session. I have a lot of homework, so if you don't mind…"

"Max," Jack said, ignoring the fact that I told him about five minutes ago that I didn't have any homework. His hands were folded on his desk, his back perfectly erect. This guy never did anything wrong; he always had every paper in its proper place, never had one shoelace untied, and wore a different tie everyday. I'd been meeting with this guy two times a week for three years. That's…a lot of ties. Am I right?

But really, if my parents wanted me to talk about my problems, maybe they should let me talk to someone else who also has a few flaws…Because I just couldn't relate to Jack here.

"Max, do you _want _to meet with me twice a week? Honestly?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Then why do you?" he asked again, his eyes staring deeply into mine.

"Because my parents make me," I said. It was true. I couldn't say my parents had never cared about me; they did send me off to the shrink to get my issues sorted out. That's got to count for something, right?

"Why do your parents think you need to be here?"

This was when my breathing came a bit shorter; a quick, erratic beat against my ribs. I blocked it out. I always shut down when Dr. Jackson asks me about it. Why are you here, Max? Why do you keep coming back, Max?

I refuse to tell him. Every single day, it's always the same answer. _I don't know. _He tries to pull it out of me, tries to get under my skin. Even wants to try hypnosis and go into my head to see what I am locking in the back of my mind. But I refuse. I tell him there is nothing for him to find. It would be a waste.

I tell him that every day until I believe it. Until I don't even know for sure if there is a reason I'm sitting in this chair or not.

"Max?"

He always pursues the question. It's like he wanted me to predict his next step. I stared at the Picasso painting and wondered what was going on in _his _head when he painted it. What was he trying to say through his art? And why didn't he just…say it instead of making it so difficult to understand? Maybe he didn't even understand it. Maybe he painted what he felt, and what he felt was so painful and dark that he painted it dark, too.

"I don't know," I murmured, dimly wondering if I should take up painting. "I don't know why I'm here. And no, I don't really know why I keep coming back. No, I don't want to talk about my past, or what may have been traumatizing. No, I don't want to talk to you about my history with drugs and crime and whatnot. No. I just…don't want to talk."

Dr, Jackson looked at me for a moment, then down at his paperwork. He looked back up at me and studied me, like a true psychologist. He smiled tentatively.

"Well, I think that's all for today, Max. I'll see you next Monday at-"

Let me guess. Four fifteen.

I stood and left as quickly as I could manage, shooting a goodbye in Sheryl's direction. I jumped down the steps of the small building, swung my backpack over my shoulder. I stepped off the sidewalk by the building and ventured into the woods, finding my shortcut and getting on path.

My phone rang.

"Max?"

"Hey, Ig," I said, stepping over a fallen tree branch. "Could you do me a _tiny _favor?"

I could almost hear him shaking his head. "No. Absolutely not. I am not lying for you. Just come home tonight."

But I was way past being strong enough to go home. All I could think about was escaping everything, and I only knew one foolproof way to do so. It hadn't failed me yet, and it was a hell of a distraction. I kept walking and didn't let my brother convince me to turn and go home.

"I can't," I said. "I have plans."

"Max, I really have to talk to you-"

"Can't it wait until Sunday?"

Iggy huffed.

"Just cover for me. Please."

"Was it a bad session today? Is that it?"

I grunted in frustration, both at my brother and at the branch that just hit me in the face. "It's always a bad session. Cut me a break, Ig. I can't go home right now. That's the last place I want to be. I'll see you Sunday."

"But, Max-"

I hung up and shoved my phone in my pocket just as I stepped out of the woods onto another sidewalk. This one, though, abruptly ended a few feet in front of me. I ran across the street and into his backyard. The kitchen light was on, but I knew he was home alone. His mom tutored struggling kids from the elementary school until six on Fridays. His dad had poker with other men in town at the rec center by the bank.

I pushed into the back door - I knew the front door was locked, but this one never was. I kicked off my shoes and lost my backpack by the door, too, before practically running up the stairs.

He was already laying in bed, where I would have dragged him anyways. He looked up when I entered his room. I pulled off my jacket and dropped it on the ground.

"Distract me," I sighed, falling into his arms. He pulled me tightly against him, so tight I could barely breathe, and kissed me until I really, really couldn't. Eventually, he flipped me onto my back. I fished my phone out of my pocket and set it on the dresser by his bed so it didn't dig into my backside so hard. It started buzzing and I glanced over, seeing my brother's name on the screen. I pushed it off the dresser and it landed on the carpet with a thud.

"Bad day?" he whispered, his fingers working on my clothes.

I leaned my head back on his pillow. "Is that anyway to distract a girl?"

He smirked, leaning over me to kiss me again. "I'm getting there, be patient."

Dylan was usually so damn good at distracting me.

He didn't disappoint this time.

**A/N: THIS IS A FAX FIC. **

**Review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: You guys are so impressive! Thanks for the reviews, they seriously made my day! And yes, this story is ALL HUMAN. And no, FANG IS NOT DEAD. Nor is he dying in this story, ever.**

**I told you you've never seen this plot before…**

**Another thing: The quotes before each chapter are all from songs, if ya didn't know. I highly suggest you check these songs out. They rock. **

**Here we go with chapter two! **

_It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone. _

_- Over You, Miranda Lambert_

MAX

It was eight thirty, bright and early, on Sunday when Dylan pulled up in my driveway.

"Damn it," I muttered, spotting my mom's SUV and my dad's grey sedan in the driveway. "I was hoping they'd be at church." I resist the urge to tell Dylan to take me back to his house and unbuckle my seatbelt. Had to face reality sometime.

Dylan leaned over and stole a longer, slower kiss than the faster, more heated ones we'd shared the night before. And the night before that.

"Max," he said, "don't forget about Tim's party on Friday. We're going to ride with Sam and Reece."

I nodded, ducking my head to get up out of his car. "See ya."

"I'll call you later," he said, glaring through the sun to look up at me. "I would apologize for getting you home late…but, I'm not sorry."

I rolled my eyes. "Go home."

"Actually, I'm going to work," he said, running his hand over his eyes. His parents owned the town general store and he worked part-time. "You should come by, when you're ungrounded."

I scoffed. "Parents only ground the kids they care about."

Dylan smirked. "I'll see you later."

I closed the door and stepped away from the road. He pulled away and I walked towards the front door. I peeked through the porch window, scanning for people in the entry hallway. No one in sight. Maybe it would be a clean sneak in. Maybe they weren't up and they hadn't notice I was gone for the past two days.

I jiggled my key in the lock and stepped through the doorway. So far, so good. Closing the door quietly behind me, I slipped out of my sneakers and started towards the stairs in my socks. Maybe Ig _had _covered for me after all.

As I walk past the kitchen towards the stairs at the end of the hall, I heard that dreaded tone of voice. The she-devil meant business.

"Max."

Busted.

Slowly, I turned and faced the door to the kitchen. My mom's back was to me, and she was cooking something on the stove.

"I thought…you were at church," I said finally.

"If you were ever home, maybe you would know that your brother, your father and I go to church on Saturday evening. But you always seem to have better things to do."

"I-"

"You slept at Monique's, I'm assuming?"

I hated when she did this. I edged my way into the kitchen, wrapping my arms around myself. _Don't assume, mother, _I thought. _It will only make an ass out of you and me. _

Mostly me.

"No, I wasn't with Nudge," I said, erasing a scuff on the tile with my sock. "I told Ig to tell you I was going to Dylan's."

"You spent the weekend at Dylan's house?" she clarified.

I figured silence was answer enough.

Mom turned around to face me. Her voice was low and calm, but she looked disappointed. "You've already made it clear that you don't care what I think. Go get cleaned up."

Okay. So I was a horrible daughter. And my mom was really good at making me feel guilty. I bit my lip. "Mom, I didn't try to-"

"End of discussion," she said. "Go get cleaned up. We're expecting company."

Company? "No - wait, will you just listen to me?"

She turned back around to face me, stepping closer. "Why? You don't make the effort to listen to me. So why should I listen to you?"

I stared at her. "You're not being fair."

"I can only be so fair, Max," she said. Mom walked away from me again, pulling something out of the fridge. "Go take a shower. You have twenty minutes."

I retreated from the kitchen and walked upstairs, past my brother's open door.

"Hey, Ig," I mumbled, stopping in the door. I noticed his strawberry blonde hair was tidy for once and he was already dressed, which seemed unusual for such an early morning. Then again, what would I know. I wasn't usually home on the weekends anyways.

Iggy was born before me. He'll tell anyone we meet, too. He's older by two minutes and thirty-four seconds, but he likes to say three minutes because "it sounds better". We also looked nothing alike. I looked like Dad, he looked like my mother…but who knows where he got the hair from. Weirdo.

My mother met my dad at a party in her sorority in college. To even think about my mother attending a party that didn't include parishioners or high-upstanding figures made me doubt the truth of this story, but whatever. Dad told me that they met at a party, and they dated for about four years before they got married.

Kids had always been part of the plan for Dad. He grew up in a big family, with seven brothers and sisters. He had wanted a big family, too. Mom…Mom wanted to focus on her career and building a life for her husband and herself. Then, maybe, they'd have a baby after a few years. One. Not two. Not seven. One.

She freaked when they got pregnant. It was only a few months after the wedding, and she was worried about what it would do to her _image _in town. How people would look at her, how it would effect her job, etc.

My mom and dad were - and still are - complete polar opposites. She'd lived here her whole life, raised by her grandparents after her mom and dad suffered a fatal car crash when she was three. My great grandma was a conservative woman with absolutely no sense of humor, and my great grandpa was more interested in money and success than anything having to do with family.

My dad, on the other hand, grew up in Montana, living on 50+ acres of land with tons of animals. Before college, he studied abroad in Europe and Germany. He had experience, memories. Dad believed in living life to the fullest and having no regrets, and Mom believed in prayer and hard work.

Anyway. Mom and Dad got pregnant three months after their wedding, and Mom wasn't the most glowing expectant mother. She and Dad argued a lot those first months of her pregnancy. Then the doctor made a discovery.

She wasn't just having _one _kid.

Oh, boy. She freaked out. It's probably the only time my mom's thought she couldn't do something. How could she raise twins? How could she keep up her job and the bills? I mean, one baby after an expensive wedding is stress enough. But two? Double the diapers, double the formula, double the clothes and binkies and everything else a baby needs?

Despite all of the doubt and anxiety, "Your mother loved you," Dad used to say. "She wanted you more than anything in the world."

Iggy was born ten minutes after midnight. When the nurse announced that he was blind, my mom fell apart. I think a part of her died that day, to be completely honest. The nurturing, motherly part, that is.

"Max," Iggy said, pulling me out of my thoughts. He spun around in his desk chair and pulled his headphones out of his ears. He'd probably been listening to notes from class - since being blind makes taking notes kind of hard. "You're alive."

"Yeah, barely," I muttered, sinking onto the end of his bed. "Mom's pissed."

"That happens a lot these days," he said. His blind eyes focused on me so accurately that it was creepy. "I mean, you don't exactly make it easier on her."

I stared at him for a second. Sometimes, my twin brother was just too blunt for his own good. He needed to work on his subtly.

I needed to work on…everything else.

"Well, life isn't easy," I said. Not for her and not for me. It was just the way the world worked. I'd learned that a long time ago.

I stood up and walked out of his room, heading down the hall. Once I got in my room, I grabbed new jeans and a sweatshirt and headed to the bathroom, where I proceeded to take a fifteen minute long shower. When I was finished, I pulled my hair up and away from my face and got dressed. Back in my room, I yanked on soft socks and then started to go back downstairs, probably to be greeted by some of my dad's coworkers or mom's book clubbers. Because this family was always _so _picture perfect.

As I neared the living room, though, I could hear my mom's chipper voice. "Oh, he was always such an adventure seeker," she gushed. "They had so many fun times together."

I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks.

"Max!" my dad greeted kindly, his eyes watching me carefully. Dad was obviously expecting me to fall apart, which I had a feeling he'd been expecting for the past two years. Mom had a photo album in her lap.

"Max, honey, look who's back in town! We were just talking about the year that you and the boys built the tree house in the backyard…" my mother trailed off, pretending to be someone she absolutely was _not_.

"You _bitch_," I breathed, staring at my mother. I started to feel anxious, my heartbeat racing and sweat breaking out on my forehead. I stared ahead of me at the people on the couch across from my parents and felt like I was about to pass out.

"Max," Iggy whispered, rubbing his forehead.

"You'll have to excuse her," Mom said nervously, looking at the Carter family who is sitting on the living room couch. "She's a bit…well, she-"

"_Do not make excuses for me_!" It got deathly quiet in the living room. The three guests on the couch, whom I've known my whole life, were staring at me like I was a train wreck. But I didn't care anymore. I stared at my mom, who was avoiding looking at me by flipping through the dusty photo album in her lap. As if she didn't know what this was going to do to me?

I choked, feeling like I couldn't breathe. My dad stood up and called my name, but I was already out the door, in just my socks, with one thing on my mind.

Getting the hell out of there.

My mom was a control freak. But I'm sure you'd gathered that. The day after Iggy and I were born, she had called her friend Zachary Carter, who was a school counselor at the only high school in our town. He was blind, too.

Mr. Carter and my mom had grown up and gone to elementary school together. Unlike Iggy, Zach had become blind after an accident during his childhood. I was never told what exactly he did, but it happened right before his freshman year.

Mom decided that Mr. Carter could help her and dad give Iggy a fulfilling life, despite his handicap. It was hard, but through the years, Iggy learned how to be a normal kid. Mom and Mrs. Carter - Lana - became best friends. Four months before my mom had me and my brother, Lana had twins, too - what a coinky-dink, huh? - two boys. Jared and Jason, Jason being two minutes older.

So that's who was sitting in my living room right now. Mr. and Mrs. Carter, and Jared. Jared, and his black hair and his dark eyes and his angular face…_just _like Jason. Always just like his brother. So much it hurt sometimes. And Jason…

I didn't want to think about him. Here, right in front of me. Six feet under my socks.

I stared at the simple grey tombstone through my blurry vision. The only bouquet of flowers was one that I put there last week. _Jason Carter, beloved son… _

"I hate you sometimes," I breathed, wiping my eyes. It was true. Thinking about Jason just caused me so much pain and anger. It wasn't fair that he was gone, and it sure as hell wasn't easy living without him.

I collapsed in front of the stone, unable to hold myself up any longer. My arms went around the rock and I couldn't hold it in for one more lousy second. Loud, wracking sobs ripped from my chest, and tears poured out of my eyes for the first time in a long, long time.

Gradually, my sobbing subsided until I was cried out. I laid with my forehead pressed to the rough top of the rock, breathing heavily and clinging to the tombstone for dear life. My body shook with violent hiccups.

"Now, is that anyway to greet your best friend?"

I had been so wrapped up in my own little soap opera, I hadn't heard him appear behind me. I let Jared Carter pull me into his arms and hold me close. I felt tears well up in my eyes again; I guess I wasn't all cried out yet. I buried my face into his shirt and took deep, desperate breaths, trying to fill my lungs.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I thought you'd be happy. I'm so sorry, Max."

I inhaled with a shudder, clinging to his usual black shirt. Judging by his outfit, he hadn't changed a bit. Judging by his voice, though…

"I a-am ha-appy," I gasped, wiping my nose and moving my head from his chest to his shoulder, trying to calm my breathing.

"I missed you," he said softly.

"I missed you, too, Fang."

**A/N: Hopefully that wasn't too, too terribly confusing. **

**Review. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm siiiiiiick. **

**Yuck. **

**Anyways, you guys are freaking incredible for giving me 52 reviews within the first two chapters! It is seriously so **_**inspiring**_**! I hope you all love this story.**

**This is a short and boring chapter, but if you give me...twenty reviews I'll update again tonight! **

_I guess you never know what you have until you lose it._

_- Alone, G-Eazy_

MAX

"I am not going in there," I said quietly. My feet were pulled up in front of me on the black seat of Fang's black Jeep Wrangler as I looked out the window at my house. The house looked as plain and normal as ever; it seemed as if, as usual, life was going on just fine without me.

Fang nodded. "Okay," he said. Then he started pulling out of the driveway. I thought he was playing me, waiting for me to give in and say I was going to enter that hellhole that is my house, but then he drove down the road. Then he turned onto another road. And another.

"Where are we going?" I mumbled, my chin sitting on my knees.

"The safe haven," Fang said, turning on the radio. Safe haven, as in, the Carter's old-house-turned-new-house. Three years ago, the summer Jason died, Fang's family packed up and moved across the country. And now, they were back.

I glanced at him in my peripheral vision. Remember when I'd said that he hadn't changed?

Pfft. Forget that bullshit.

Fang had gotten his nickname after he was attacked by a stray dog when we went on vacation. My dad actually gets the credit for the name, though. When he was patching him up, he said, "Nice going, Fang." It stuck.

But the boy that I'd grown up playing pranks on and wrestling with was now a man. He was taller, no longer scrawny or awkward looking like he had been three years ago. His chin had some dark stubble on it, and I couldn't wrap my fingers completely around his bicep anymore. He'd grown up.

But then, so had I. I guess just not with the same positive effects. Instead of becoming a beautiful young lady, I was a rough, hell-bound teenager with way too much knowledge for her age.

The funny thing about Fang's house: it was about twenty minutes away from my house by road, but two minutes away on feet. The only thing that separated the Carter's from us was a small patch of woods and a dried out creek. But since there were no roads through the woods, we had to take the long way.

"We could've walked," I continued.

"Walking doesn't provide free music," Fang said, turning down the gravel driveway leading to his house. "Shush."

The truth was, this was the first time I'd seen their house since that year. I stared at it, feeling a chill move over my body. _It's just a house, Max._

Just a house.

A house where I'd spend weeks hanging out with my brother and Fang and Jason. Where I'd spend hours locked up in Jason's room with him. Where I'd spent my entire childhood.

No, it wasn't just a house. This was like a haunted memorial of Jason, sitting nestled in the woods. Full of memories and reminders of him. Everywhere.

Being ever the gentleman, Fang left me alone in the Jeep, fumbling with the ridiculous seatbelt. After a minute, I joined him in the kitchen, where he made up for his non-existent chivalry with a bowl of ice cream.

Up in his room, we sat on his naked mattress that was on the floor - they hadn't put together the bed frame yet - and ate our bowls of ice cream.

"You haven't unpacked you're closet yet, but you have ice cream in your freezer?" I asked.

"Actually, I think this was left over from before we moved out," he joked. I fake gagged, rolling my eyes. Three-year-old ice cream. Delish.

"So, how was California?" I asked.

"Different," he said, finishing his last bite and laying back on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "Guess it helped. Took Mom's mind off of things. Helped us move on."

"You guys are seriously moving back? For good?" I ask, laying next to him.

Fang nodded, turning his head to look at me. "What about you? How's life been for the last three years?"

Three years. God, it felt like just yesterday. I couldn't believe three years had passed like that.

"Peachy," I said nonchalantly. "Let's not talk about me."

"Okay," he said, glancing to his other side. "Let's talk about _Dylan_."

"What?"

"Dylan," he repeated with a sly grin, holding up my buzzing cell phone. "I'll get it." He raised the phone to his ear, as if he were about to answer it, and I rolled over onto his stomach, wrestling the phone out of his hand.

"Hello?" I asked, scooting away from Fang once I'd gotten the phone out of his grip.

"My place, ten minutes. I have a surprise for you," he said.

"I'm curious, but I can't," I said, sticking my tongue out at Fang as he stole a bite from my bowl.

"You can," he corrected. "Parents are driving three hours upstate to visit my uncle."

"No parents," I said. "Tempting. I wish my house was blessed like that."

"Max," he said. I could hear something in his voice, something I couldn't place.

"Sorry. No can do, babe. See you at school tomorrow," I said. Fang mouthed _babe _at me incredulously and I socked him in the shoulder.

_Boyfriend? _Fang mouthed, raising an eyebrow.

Dylan was silent, but I gushed sarcastically, "No, _you _hang up first!"

Fang rolled his eyes.

"You owe me," Dyl said lowly.

"We'll see," I said.

After I hung up, I set my phone down on the hardwood floor next to Fang's bed and looked around his room. "You need to start unpacking."

"Why do you think I dragged you out here? To eat my food?"

I grinned. "I was hoping."

Fang stood up and offered me a hand. I took it, joining him. He turned towards the boxes stacked against one of the walls, but I grabbed his wrist.

"Hey," I said gently. He looked at me. "Thanks."

He nodded, opening the nearest box. "I've got your back, Max."

Over the next few hours, Fang and I finished setting up his room. When we were finished, Fang carried all the empty boxes out of his room and I flopped down on his bed, now with a navy blue comforter on it.

Around three, Fang's parents came back from my house. I apologized to his mom for my rudeness, but she just brushed it off and hugged me tight.

"It's good to see you, Max," she said, stroking my hair. "Goodness, you are so grown up. Such a beautiful young woman!"

Unlike my mom, Fang's mom is amazing. She's beautiful and sweet, and has a good heart. Out of all of us, she doesn't deserve the hand she was dealt. But she takes it all in stride and just keeps keepin' on.

Mr. Carter also gave me a hug, kissing my hair as he pulled me to his side. "Max, long time, no see," he chuckled. Leave it to the blind guy. I grinned into his shoulder, knowing he'd feel it.

"Hey, Mr. Carter," I said.

"So, we invited your family over tomorrow for dinner. You and James can come home from school with Jared, if you'd like. Your parents should be coming around six."

I almost agreed, but I realized that I had to see the shrink tomorrow, right after school.

"Uh, I have to go to my friend's house for a project," I said. "But I'll try to make it."

"Sounds good," she said, opening the freezer. "Jared, did you eat all the ice cream?"

Fang pointed at me. I protested immediately, but Mrs. Carter just laughed at me. "Don't sweat it, there's another carton with _my _name on it," she said, slapping her husband's hand away from the tub of rocky road ice cream.

"She hides the best kind from Jared," Mr. Carter said. "He's a vulture."

"Learned from his father!" Mrs. Carter called as she reached into a box on the table for a spoon.

I grinned at Fang. He looked at me, amused.

"I should be getting home," I said reluctantly. He nodded, pushing off of the doorjamb he was leaning on. "I'll drive you."

"I can walk," I said, looking out the window where it was already getting dark.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Carter said. "You don't have any shoes."

I stared down at my socks.

Fang snorted. He nodded his head towards the door, leading me outside.

**A/N: A little bit of insight there for ya. Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks guys!**

_If I tell the world, I'll never say enough 'cause it was not said to you_

_- Chasing Pavements, Adele_

MAX

"How about…Kayla Cerro?"

"Oh, you didn't hear about her?" Iggy asked with interest.

"I was across the country," Fang clarified. "So, no."

"Her dad caught her fooling around with some older guy and sent her to Michigan to live with her uncle on a farm in the middle of nowhere."

Fang sighed, flipping through our freshmen yearbook, the one I'd found in my closet last night. It was almost six on Monday, and after going to an uneventful appointment with the therapist, I made my way over to Fang's where he and Iggy were going through all the "decent" girls Fang could remember from school.

"Mindy Walter?"

"Relationship."

"Hmm…Lissa Smith?"

"Two relationships."

"Ella Martinez?"

I smirked, sitting up. "I hear she's looking for a boyfriend!"

"Shut up," Iggy said, throwing a pillow in my direction. It missed and hit the wall a foot away from my head. Props for trying. "She's mine. I mean, she will be."

"Yeah, if you ever grow a pair," I muttered. "This is boring."

"Oh, go shoot up or something," Iggy said. "This is _productive_."

I stiffened at his joke, then made a face at him. After realizing that was wasted, I kicked him, hard, causing him to fall off the mattress.

"Kids! Dinner!"

I sighed, rolling off the side of Fang's bed.

"Samantha Regis?" Fang whispered as we made our way downstairs.

"Ugly," Iggy responded.

"Pigs," I said, walking into the kitchen.

"No," Mr. Carter said, almost bumping into me. "Turkey." He carefully handed a platter holding a delicious-looking turkey to my father, who set it on the table.

"And I dug out my very best dishes just for tonight," Mrs. Carter said, motioning to the blue table cloth and pristine white plates.

I smiled and took a seat between Iggy and Fang on one side of the table. My mom and dad were seated across from us, and each of Fang's parents at either end. Just like every Friday night way back when, when we all gather for dinner. But despite everyone sitting around me, that one extra chair next to my dad made me feel like I was sitting all alone.

As I reached for one of the serving spoons, my mother looked at me pointedly. I paused.

"Max, would you like to say grace?"

I stared at her. I pulled my hand back and set it in my lap, then elbowed Iggy. "Ig wants to."

He sighed and began a prayer, everyone around me joining in, their heads bowed. Fang stayed silent, but closed his eyes and lowered his head. After prayer, I quickly piled food on a plate for Iggy, set it down in front of him, and set the fork down noisily next to the plate. Fang reached over and did the same for his dad.

"So, Max," Mom said calmly, cutting her turkey carefully into equal sized strips. "How was the -"

"Fine," I interrupted her, giving her a solemn look. _Not here. _"The _project _was fine. Nudge and I almost finished it."

She stopped cutting her food and looked straight at me, her eyes disapproving. What else is new?

"What are you doing a project on?" Mrs. Carter asked from down the table.

"A book for school," I said, ripping my eyes away from my mother.

"Oh, which book?" Fang's dad inquired.

"_Frankenstein_," I said, thinking on my toes.

"Good book," Fang's mom said, approvingly.

I could feel my mother's glare and only hoped that she wouldn't tell them where I'd really been. "Yeah," I said quietly.

It was quiet a bit longer, and then Fang mumbled, "Nicole Jones?"

"Nicole Jones!" Iggy exclaimed, hitting the table and make the adults jump in surprise. "Dude, she's hot _and _single!"

I groaned, resting my cheek in one hand, stabbing my fork at my salad and impaling a cherry tomato. "You guys are gross."

"What's wrong with Nikki?" Iggy challenged, elbowing me playfully.

"Nothing," I said. "She's cool. She doesn't deserve you guys salivating over her like dogs."

"Who _does _deserve us?" Iggy asked curiously.

"No one," Fang said, laughing.

I grinned, rolling my eyes. "You got that right."

"So, Jared," my mother interrupted our conversation quietly. "How was your first day back?"

"Fine," he said, glancing up at her. "I had two classes with Ig and…" he counted in his head for a second, "five with Max."

"That's cool," my dad said.

"Oh, it's a blast," I drawled sarcastically. Fang gave me a look before stealing one of my tomatoes from my salad. My jaw dropped in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. And then one we all have together: Anatomy. That's going to be fun this year," Iggy said innocently. I kicked him under the table.

"Max, if you're trying to play footsie with Fang, he's on your other side."

Well, then my mother had just had enough. Maybe of me actually talking and participating in normal conversation, maybe of everyone remotely enjoying a meal together for the first time since Jay died. I don't know. If I ever understand why she acts the way she does, it'll be a miracle.

She set down her fork and her knife and patted at her lips - that were pressed into a firm, unforgiving line - with a napkin. I should've seen it coming. But I continued laughing while Fang went for another one of my tomatoes, and our forks fought for it, until my mom said to the others, "Haven't seen her like this in three years."

I felt like stabbing my knife into the Carter's table. I looked up at her.

"So, Max, you never told me. How was the appointment with Dr. Jackson after school?"

Iggy bumped his knee against mine under the table. _Chill_. I took a deep breath.

"Fine," I said. I felt my dad's eyes on me and looked up. He would just sit back and let Mom do her thing, as always. The three Carters were staring at me, wondering what she was talking about.

"And you have another appointment on Friday?" she continued.

"As always," I bit out, fury building up inside me. "What are you playing at?"

"I'm just trying to get you to talk to me," she said defensively. "I was just telling your father that maybe if you'd talk to us, none of this would've happened."

"None of what?" I asked. I was honestly curious. Because I can tell you one thing; I still would've hated her guts either way.

"Everything," she replied. I could not believe she was doing this right now, in front of everyone. "The drugs, the stealing, the cutting. Pastor William says that communication-"

"I don't care what he says," I said, standing up. It was like I couldn't catch a break. Like no matter what I did, it was _never _going to get easier for me. It was as if the universe wanted to see how much I could take before I fell apart completely. I couldn't take that much more.

Iggy grabbed my wrist and my dad started talking lowly to my mom, telling her that here was neither the time nor place to have this conversation.

"I'm a _mess_, and you just want everyone in town to know, don't you?" I said, practically seeing red. I yanked my arm away from my brother. "Did you ever think that maybe the first step to helping me was not treating me like a freaking _leper_? Like I can't enjoy a single day of trying to be normal?"

"Don't speak to me that way, young lady," she said calmly.

"Oh, you've made it pretty damn clear that you don't think I'm a _young lady_," I exclaimed. It was a relief to get this off my chest. Sure, the punishment afterwards was going suck, but not if I wasn't around to put up with it. "More like I'm a freaking suicidal psychopath who's addicted to drugs!"

"So, now you aren't?" she spat.

Oh.

I

_hated _

her.

Especially that she had the nerve to humiliate me in front of everyone, in front of Fang, tell them all of my issues and how I'm not perfect and why I'm _such a screw up_.

My phone started buzzing in my back pocket. Perfect timing, for once in my life. I stomped away from the table, trying to hold everything in. Trying not to completely break down. I made it into the foyer and heard the complete dead silence coming from the dining room. I answered my phone.

"I'm in front of your house," Dylan said shortly.

"Good," I said heatedly, shoving my feet into my shoes. "Five minutes."

**A/N: Review pleaaase.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, the last chapter was a little short and you guys made me really, really happy with your awesome reviews. Here you go, chapter 5!**

_I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand._

_- Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls_

MAX

"Give me my shirt," I mumbled, sitting up.

Dylan moved over so he filled my vision, a glint in his eyes. He shook his head, leaning in to smash his mouth to mine. His fingers moved towards my jeans again, and I wiggled out of his arms and off his bed.

"Seriously, where did you put it?" I breathed, looking around his messy room.

He sighed behind me, falling on his back and staring up at the ceiling. "Like I paid any attention to where I threw your clothes."

I rolled my eyes. I heard him lift himself up off the bed and felt his hands grip my bare waist.

"Come on, Max…What's wrong?"

"I already told you," I said, turning around to face him. He pulled me flush against him. "Don't you listen to me?"

"Mmm..." He started kissing my neck. "Can't you just give me this one night? Max?"

"If you'd been listening, you'd know that I'm not in the mood right now," I said. Considering all the other nights I'd "given him", he was acting strange. I pushed him away. Turning around, I finally spotted my shirt on the floor by his dresser.

"I don't think you're trying very hard," Dylan commented.

I turned around to glare at him.

"I could always get Fang to come pick me up," I said as I pulled on my shirt.

He grunted in response. "Yeah, I saw you two hanging out at school today," he said, his voice guarded. "Didn't know Carter was back in town."

"He got back Sunday, after you dropped me off." I looked at him, knowing that he knew that was the reason why I blew him off. Also knowing that it made him jealous. "Are you driving me home or not?"

"I guess."

The car ride was quiet, not necessarily comfortable but not bad enough that I tried to break the silence. Finally, once we were about ten minutes from my house, Dylan said, "So are we still going Friday?"

I glanced at him. "Going where?"

"Tim's put together a big camping trip this Friday, remember?" He turned down the long gravel road that led into the woods that surrounded my house.

Camping? "I don't remember you saying it was a camping trip."

"You sleep over all the time anyways. Now we'll just be in a tent."

"I don't think I want to go," I said, looking out the window up at the big bright stars over head.

"What? You're backing out now? I already said we'd go," he said.

"Go without me," I said. "I don't want to."

He scoffed, looking pissed. "You always do this."

"What?" I asked with as much tenacity.

"You always back out. You're losing your touch. You're boring. Skipping out on parties to be around your damn family that you don't even like. To be around Carter. You used to be fun."

I used to be fun? Back when I did drugs and got drunk and was almost never sober? Back when I had scars on my arms? I shut my mouth, not wanting to fight. Not wanting to have something else to feel bad about.

Dylan looked like he wanted to say something else. Something I probably wouldn't like. "What?"

"You did this to yourself, you know that? You never come over anymore, and now its just gotten worse since you hang out with Carter all the fucking time."

Did what to myself? It wasn't my fault that I had doctor appointments on Mondays that he didn't know about. He was totally overreacting. I stared at him in disbelief.

"He's been back for one day!" I said, rolling my eyes. "Get over it! All we do is have sex anyways, so why should I cancel my other plans just to roll around in your bed?"

"You could at least act like you want me!"

I turned my head to look away from him. "Who ever said I wanted you?"

"I'll tell you someone who wanted me when you didn't-"

He stopped himself. He was really getting worked up about this, which freaked me out. We had arguments like this sometimes, but it was never something to sweat about.

He'd done something. Something he shouldn't have.

"What?" I whispered, looking at him. I didn't think I really wanted to know. But it was killing me.

He shook his head. We were still about five minutes down the road from my house.

"Tell me what you did," I demanded.

"I was with Nikki today," he said, his jaw tight. Nicole Jones. Damn, that name was being thrown around a lot today.

"Oh?" I tried to read him, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. So what? Why did I suddenly care who he hung out with? It wasn't like Dylan didn't hang out with other girls. I'd hung out with Fang today… What was the difference?

"We…got carried away."

Huh.

_That _was the difference.

It was dead silent for a long time. Finally, Dylan said, "I didn't mean for it to happen."

I took a deep breath, keeping my anger in check, trying not to jump to conclusions.

"You slept with her?"

My mind was racing, and I forced myself to stare ahead and be patient. I forced myself not to break down and freak out right now.

"We should talk about this later," Dylan said.

"We're going to talk about this right now!" I snapped.

He didn't answer, and I could feel my blood rushing to my cheeks. I never thought anything like this would happen to me. Dylan and I were…or at least, _had been _really close. Or maybe that had all been a lie. Maybe our relationship hadn't been as real as I'd thought it was. But that didn't mean him cheating on me hurt me any less. Or didn't embarrass me.

"Where?" I asked, my voice strained.

If she had been in his _bed_, where we'd _just _been _minutes _ago… I felt bile rise in my throat at the thought.

"It was stupid. I offered to give her a ride home from school after you ditched me for Carter…"

I bit my lip from telling him that I _wasn't _hanging out with Fang. I had been at the shrink when he cheated on me. How ironic. The shrink was supposed to _help _me with my problems. Not give me more of them.

His jaw tightened, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Then it clicked.

I exhaled harshly, fumbling with my seatbelt.

"Stop the car," I mumbled, willing myself not to cry.

"Let me get you home," he said softly.

"_Stop the car_!" I practically screeched.

I opened the door and stepped out before he'd even rolled to a complete stop. Clouds were rumbling overhead and I saw a flash of lightning in the distance. I could feel small rain drops hitting my arms and face.

"Max, it's going to rain! Get back in the-"

"Shut _up_, Dylan!" I said, walking away from him down the road. I was still a mile away from my house, but I would rather walk in the pouring rain than suffer a car ride with him any longer.

"Max, I didn't mean to -" he tried, running after me. He grabbed my elbow. I spun around, glaring at him.

"You didn't mean to _sleep _with her? Well you did, Dylan." I took a breath. "Nonetheless in the same car that I was _just sitting in_!"

"Max-"

"Don't talk to me," I said, ripping my arm out of his grip and stepping back. The rain was picking up, coming down like a curtain between us. Final. The end of a show. "Don't touch me."

"Would you just listen for a second?" Dylan yelled.

I didn't answer him because right then, a familiar Jeep rolled to a stop next to us. Dylan's car was still farther down the road, still running on the shoulder, both doors wide open. The rain was slowly but surely drenching the both of us and the inside of his car. Good riddance.

The driver cranked the window of the Jeep down. "Max? Are you okay?"

I sighed in relief at the sight of Fang's familiar face. His eyes were worried, but as usual, he was guarded pretty well.

I walked towards his Jeep, yanking open the door and hoisting myself up onto the seat.

"Drive," I said, slamming the door shut. Fang looked at me seriously.

"Do you want me to handle it?"

"No, I want you to drive," I hissed, fumbling in his glove compartment for a tissue or a napkin. I hadn't even realized I was crying - because of the rain or my jumbled stated of mind, I don't know.

Fang nodded his head and soon we'd left a drenched and pissed Dylan standing in the road.

I tried to clean myself up, but Fang only had one freaking napkin in his entire vehicle, and my tears were an unstoppable force by now. He turned down the drive to my house. Ten minutes ago, I'd been okay enough to face my parents. But not anymore.

Fang parked outside my house, and with one look at me, turned around and headed for his instead. I couldn't even manage a thank you at this point.

By the time we'd gotten to his house, I was pretty much cried out and embarrassed beyond belief. I couldn't believe I was letting Fang see me like this, _again_. The last thing I wanted to do was walk past Fang's parents looking like hell.

Reading my mind, he said, "It's almost midnight. They're asleep by now."

I nodded.

"Tell me one thing," Fang said finally. "Should I have kicked his ass?"

I wiped my eyes one last time, opening the door. "I can handle myself."

Fang and I made our way inside, but I stood dripping on the welcome mat. Fang sent me one look, then left the kitchen and went upstairs. He returned with a pair of his own shorts and a t-shirt.

"Black," I mumbled as I pulled them out of his arms. "Shocker."

I heard a soft chuckle as I tiptoed my way down the hall to the bathroom.

I pulled off my soaking clothes and pulled on Fang's baggy shorts and shirt he'd given me. This whole "borrowing his stuff" thing had worked much better when we were relatively the same size. Now he was a fucking skyscraper and I was…not.

Minutes later, after he had put my clothes in the dryer, we were laying in his room. I crawled under the comforter, pressing my face into his pillow, and he flopped down next to me on his back.

"Do you want to…talk about it?"

I wasn't sure if he was talking about my mother's revelations about me at dinner or my fallout with Dylan. I ignored his question, turning my head the other way to face away from him, staring at the wall of his bedroom.

"Should you call them, tell them where you are?"

"This isn't unusual," I said, and we left it at that. _Except, usually, I'm at Dylan's. _

What a drastic 180.

"Did he…take advantage of you?"

I snorted. How innocent did he think I was? "It wasn't anything like that, Fang."

He looked relieved. Either at the fact that we didn't have to talk about it or that I wasn't forced into anything, I don't know.

"I don't know what else she said, after I left," I mumbled. "But I don't go to church anymore."

Fang didn't say anything, but just his presence next to me gave me a bit of courage to say what I had to say next.

"I'm not sure if I believe in God and heaven and redemption…but," I took a deep breath. Just thinking it made my eyes feel prickly. This isn't who I used to be. I'd fallen out of a tree when I was eight and broken my leg in two places, but still I didn't cry one tear.

But since Jason…

"If your brother is watching me, from wherever he is…" I whispered, "I don't think he'd like who I am very much."

I could barely make out Fang's slow, even breathing. I pressed my lips together.

"I loved him," I choked out. I swallowed thickly. "It sounds stupid, but…I did."

"I know, Max," he said without hesitation. I felt his body shift and his arm wrapped around my shoulders. His next words were closer, in my ear. I could feel his breath against my shoulder. "He knew it, too."

I know it was supposed to make me feel better, but it only intensified the guilt, until all I could do was close my eyes and will myself to succumb to sleep.

And that was all.

**A/N: You know what to do!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh, my gosh. We've already got 100 reviews. I am…so shocked. **

**You guys are amazing, and I'm really glad you like the story. And I have a really, really hard time waiting a whole day to update. **

**One of the bad things about having 17+ chapters written is that I don't ever want to wait to update. Like, I constantly want to give you more of the story. I guess I'm just flawed.**

**Here you go!**

_Tell me why we live like this._

_- We Are Broken, Paramore_

MAX

Fang rolled over on top of me to turn off his alarm and I pushed at his chest, making him roll onto the other side of the bed so he wasn't crushing me. I groaned, opening my eyes to squint at the glowing green light.

"It's five thirty," I rasped.

Fang pushed himself up onto his elbows and rubbed a hand over his face.

"You get up at five thirty in the morning?" I demanded quietly in a hiss.

Fang just looked at me.

"What do you need to do, straighten your hair? Hell to the no," I grumbled. "Wake me up in an hour."

Fang pushed back his blankets and got out of bed. I pulled the comforter up around me and curled up. Seconds later I heard him go into the bathroom, followed by the sound of the shower.

I woke again around six. Fang was in his boxers, getting dressed. I would've felt embarrassed, but you don't really get embarrassed around the guy you used to take baths with when you were three; the guy who was there when you first started your period; the guy who walked in on you when you were getting to second base for the first time, with his _brother_.

His hair was wet from the shower. I sat up and yawned looking at him.

"I don't know what your parents are going to think," I said. "Maybe I shouldn't cause a scene." I wondered how hard it would be to jump out of his second story window.

Fang rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to respond. But before he could, his door opened. "Here's your stuff, Max," Mrs. Carter said kindly, setting my clothes on the end of the bed that I was still lying in.

"Come on, kids," Mr. Carter added from down stairs. "Breakfast is getting cold!"

His mom smiled at me one last time then closed the door behind her as she left.

"I don't think they'll be a problem," Fang said. I smirked, pushing his covers off and taking my clothes from the foot of the bed. It wasn't weird for us to manage changing in the same room, although I have to admit, it's different when you're seventeen and not seven.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, looking down at me. I nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Let's eat."

Breakfast that morning was…the most civil meal I'd had in a long time. Mr. and Mrs. Carter insisted I go home and talk to my parents before school, which I'd completely forgotten we had today. Unfortunately, they were right. I couldn't wear the same clothes to school two days in a row.

I walked home. Fang offered to drive me, but I think he secretly wanted to make sure I actually went home. His mom tried to get me to ride with him, too, but I hadn't missed the curious looks on their faces at breakfast. My mother's words had sure left an impression, that's for sure.

I let myself in through the back door. Iggy was in kitchen, eating breakfast. My dad was reclined in a chair in the living room, holding a book.

"Hello, Max," he said, setting down his book.

I gulped. "Hi, dad," I said.

"Your mother's at work," he said, looking at me over his reading glasses. "You can talk when she gets home. You might want to go change for school."

"Fang's picking us up," Iggy called from the kitchen.

"I know," I said. I ran upstairs and changed quickly, then slung my book bag over my shoulder. I didn't even try to look at myself in the mirror.

"Let's go, Max!" Iggy yelled from down the stairs.

"Coming!" I called back. I took the steps two at a time and followed Iggy out the door, where Fang was waiting in his Jeep.

"Hey," I said, climbing in.

"Morning," he said as Iggy slammed the door shut.

The ride to school was quiet for a while, until Iggy said, "So, Fang, want me to introduce you to Nicole today? She's in our History class."

I froze. Last night came rushing back to me, and Nicole's name made my fists clench. "Don't go anywhere near that slut."

"What?" Iggy asked in surprise. "She is _not _a slut."

"Oh? Then why-" I stopped myself. That was the last thing I needed to tell my brother and Fang. As if I hadn't confided in Fang enough for the three days he's been home.

"Then why, what?" Iggy asked. "Just yesterday you said she was cool."

_That was before I knew she'd slept with my boyfriend_, I thought. Then I added in my mind, _Ex-boyfriend. _

Fang parked in front of the school, and so began another day of torture. I refused to think about Dylan for one more minute.

• • •

First hour was Chemistry, one of the many classes I shared with Fang.

He was sitting alone at his lab table when I entered the room. His eyes met mine when I walked past him, but we said nothing. I sat down next to my partner, Sam Gallagher. He was preoccupied, doing homework for a different class, but he smiled warmly when I hopped up onto my stool.

The bell rang as Mrs. Carpenter started taking roll, and she glanced up. "Mr. Carter, since your partner isn't here today, why don't you join another group for our experiment."

Since I was sitting near the wall and Sam was on the outside, Fang sat on the other side of Sam.

"Max, you look really nice today," Sam said, finally looking up from what looked like Calculus homework.

"Thanks," I mumbled. I mean, who knew rolling out of Fang's bed after a mega-cry fest would win me the approval of one of my ex-boyfriend's best friends?

I smiled as genuinely as possible. Sam had always been a really nice guy, so who was I to be a bitch to him for no reason? (No matter what his dickhead best friend had done). Behind him, Fang rolled his eyes as if to say _As if_, and I glared at him. He smirked.

"Everything you need for the experiment today is already on your tables. Make sure to wear your safety goggles. Let's have no injuries today," Mrs. Carpenter said. I pulled my goggles on as Fang reached forward and started measuring out the clearer of the two liquids carefully into a beaker.

"So, uh, Max," Sam said after a minute. "Are you doing anything on Friday?"

I froze. Sam leaned down to write something on his paper, and Fang made a face at me. I felt like punching him.

"Uh, sorry," I said. "I'm going to Tim's party. With Dylan."

Sam looked up at me, his eyes soft. "That's not what I heard."

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. "Then what did you hear?" I asked testily. Inside, I was thinking, _Seriously? Already?_

"Max." He stared at me for a second, then shook his head. "If you change your mind, I was actually going to make sure you were going to the party. Tim's camp-out?"

Internally, I groaned. Fang was giving me a questioning look, but I ignored him. "I didn't really want to go in the first place," I mumbled. "Seemed like it was going to be lame."

"What?" Sam asked incredulously. Now he was heating the three things we'd combined over a Bunsen burner. "Tim throws the best parties."

I knew that. I'd already been to almost a dozen of them in the past three years, half of them I didn't remember too great.

Sam knew this. "Well, I don't have to tell _you _that, party animal," he said with a grin.

I gritted my teeth. Sam snorted, looking up at me. "Remember that one time, when you and Tim-"

"Uh, looks like it's reacting. It says we need to record the reaction and measure the temperature, before adding the grey stuff."

Sam, being the ever-attentive student, diligently set upon doing just that. "You know Max, if you don't want to go to the party…we could always do something else."

"I dunno," I mumbled. "Maybe."

Fang, though, caught my eyes with his and I knew what he was thinking.

He knew that I was hiding something from him.

The horrible part was, I _was _hiding something. I was hiding myself.

• • •

"Party animal?" Fang asked as we walked through the halls. He smiled softly.

I shrugged. He studied me for a bit, his smile long gone, then said, "I have to go meet up with Ig at his locker. We can talk about all this later."

What was _all this_? My whole life, for the past three years? That was preposterous, especially since I didn't know zip about his life in California.

I didn't like the feeling that came over me then. A feeling that maybe I was wrong. Maybe my strong friendship with Fang wasn't as strong as I thought it was.

Maybe we barely knew each other at all.

Everyone usually met up before lunch at Iggy's locker, so that's where I set out for when fourth hour ended. It was the only other class I didn't have with Fang, since we had five together. First, second, fifth, sixth and seventh hour were the classes I had with him. We shared our seventh hour, Anatomy, with Ig.

Nudge walked with me, since she and I had fourth hour Stats together.

"Is it weird?" she asked. Nudge was two inches shorter than me, but her black boots pretty much leveled us out. Her long, curly brown hair flowed around her shoulders, and her dark-skinned complexion was only covered with mascara and lipstick. Nudge had a rare kind of beauty, and no matter how much she obsessed over style, it came naturally to her.

"Is what weird?" I asked, weaving around a couple of freshman standing in the dead center of the hallway.

"Hanging out with him," she mumbled. "I mean, they were _identical _twins."

I shook my head. "It's not like I look at Fang and see Jason. They're completely different to me."

"Well, I think he looks exactly-" she stopped talking just as she froze in mid-step, staring ahead of her.

Just as I turned to see what she was staring at, I heard a shocked, feminine gasp coming from Nicole Jones, or, as I've been referring to her in my head, The Slut Who Stole My Douchebag Boyfriend. My eyes quickly skirted over her to the real problem which was, oddly enough, involving both Fang _and _Dylan.

Fang lifted his fist and it connected roughly with Dylan's jaw. Even _I _heard the crack, from across the hall. I felt Nudge wince beside me, but I stared in shock as the force knocked Dylan back so he was leaning against the wall, and Fang hit him again, this time in the nose. It began bleeding almost instantly. Iggy was near the two of them, holding his jaw with a harsh look in his eyes.

Fang lifted his hands again to send another blow at him, but I ran forward, pushing him back.

"Stop!" I said severely. I glared at Fang, looking him in the eye. "He wasn't hitting you back - he doesn't even know how to fight!"

Fang stared down at me coldly. "You're welcome."

"That's it!" Principle Harmon pushed his way through the crowd until he stood before us. His eyes automatically landed on me, of course.

"Mr. and Ms. Ride, to my office. You too, Carter. And you," he said, pointing to Dylan. "Go to the nurse and get cleaned up." With one last withering glance at Iggy, Fang and I, he turned to the other students.

"Back to class! Nothing to see here."

• • •

"How is your jaw, Mr. Ride?" Principle Harmon closed his door and circled around to stare at the three of us, seated in front of his desk. He eyed Iggy's bruise critically for a moment.

"Fine," Iggy huffed.

"And your eye, Mr. Carter?"

Fang shrugged.

"Ms. Ride, why do you always seem to be in the middle of altercations?"

I sat up straight. "I wasn't fighting! I don't have any bruises, or swollen knuckles! Unlike these two boneheads!" I took a breath and crossed my arms, staring back at the principle as he studied me. "I was _stopping _the fight." For once.

"Firstly, Ms. Ride, you don't have much room to talk. This, as we both know, is not the first time you've sat in that chair." He tore his eyes away from me, where I was seething in my seat, to look at the boys beside me. "It _is _the first time for both of _you_, though. So you'd better hope there is a very good reason why Dylan's nose is broken."

"Because, Principle Harmon," Iggy said with false sincerity. "He cheated on my sister."

I closed my eyes, groaning. Awesome.

The man across the desk from us was quiet for a moment. Then, "That is still not an issue to be solved in school. And, might I remind you, that was not the proper way to handle the situation."

"What is the proper way to handle the situation?" Iggy inquired. "_Tell a trusted adult_?"

Principle Harmon had no response.

"There is no proper way to handle the situation," Fang answered, speaking for the first time since the fight.

"Listen," Harmon said, glancing between Fang and Iggy. "I don't want to be the bad guy here. Between you and me, I think we know who the bad guy is. But this can't happen at this school, not in the halls, not in class, not in the parking lot. The decisions you make here reflect the entire student body and staff."

He turned his head, his eyes zeroing in on me. "Max, I thought we were past this. I mean this as a compliment: I _love _not seeing you sitting in my office. But this had better not become a habit. For any of you. Those seats should be a one time thing, if at all. Understood?"

We nodded.

"Good. Get out of here. Have a good day and stay out of trouble."

We walked out of the office, all holding slips that excused our lateness to class.

"What could have possible convinced you that that was a good idea?" I asked testily.

"Sorry," Iggy said. "When Fang saw your boyfriend making out with another girl in the hallway, we decided to find out what exactly he thought he was doing."

"Which," Fang added, "could've been prevented if you had told me last night why you two were fighting was because he cheated on you."

"With Nikki!" Iggy hissed. "What a whore."

I smiled, patting him on the shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The reviews I've gotten for this story have made me the happiest person in the world. There will probably be about three more updates this week, but none this weekend. Sorry! I won't be home to update. Enjoy!**

_You're not here to say what you always used to say, but it's written in the sky tonight._

_- Someone's Watching Over Me, Hilary Duff_

MAX

That afternoon, Fang and Iggy went to the gym to work out or shoot hoops or _something _right after school. I had something else to do.

I stood in front of Jason's tombstone. I pulled away the dying flowers I'd placed there a month ago and set my new, bright bouquet in its place. I pulled away at the weeds and dead petals that sat around his grave. It was silent, peaceful. I sat in front of the stone and imagined that it was really him, really sitting with me. I pictured him the way he had been - fourteen and still with a bit of a child's complexion, not yet a man. His hair lighter than Fang's. His eyes softer. I tried to think of more differences, but that was really all I could pick out.

"Hello, Max," Mrs. Carter said from behind me. She held flowers, too. I scooted over as she kneeled down next to me. She placed her flowers next to mine and gave me a smile, her fingers running over her son's name on the gravestone.

"Pretty," I said, motioning to her flowers. She looked back at them, nodding.

"I noticed on Sunday, when we got back, that there were flowers here. You've been doing that for a while, haven't you?"

More like forever. I nodded.

"I wanted to thank you for that," she said, putting her hand on mine. "And I hope you understand why we had to move away. It was the best. For Jared, for us. For you."

Well, I certainly didn't agree with that last part.

"I also wanted you to know that your mother only means her best," she whispered, her fingers tightening on mine. "I think it scares her, not knowing how to help you. I'm sorry if taking Jared away from you is what made that happen."

I stared at the stone ahead of me. "I would've changed anyways, Mrs. Carter."

"I know, sweetheart," she said. "I know I can't tell you what to do, but Zach and I want you to know that you can always confide in us."

I tugged on my lip with my teeth, considering her words. "I know."

She took a deep breath, watching me. Then, she gave my hand a squeeze and pulled away, reaching in her purse. "I found something. When we were packing up the house in California," she said. "I…I just thought you might want to have it back."

From her purse she pulled an old locket that was shaped like a heart. I sucked in a breath. I pulled it open and saw a picture of all four of us, Jason, Iggy, Fang and me. This had been my birthday present from Jason, the same year that…that everything had changed. I remembered the day that I'd given this to Fang. I let her drop it in my hand, trying not to allow the memory to come back to me. I didn't know what I'd do if I thought about it right now.

She saw right through my tight jaw and closed eyelids. Squeezing my shoulder, Mrs. Carter said, "Goodbye, Max. You're welcome at our house anytime."

_The funeral was in the morning, at ten. I got up and went through preparations mindlessly, if only to avoid thinking about Jason. Or to avoid thinking at all. _

_The only day I'd ever worn a dress. Black v-neck, with a flowy skirt that ended right at my knees. It had a slim, golden belt. I wore my locket only because I never took it off, not since the day Jason had put it on my neck. _

_The ride to the church was silent except for my mother's hushed sobs. So tragic, she'd say. So unexpected. _

_The car was suddenly parked and I saw the entire town standing outside in the bright July sun. I knew that there were, at most, two hundred people. Other kids from school, teachers and neighbors made up the attendees. There were only a handful of people I didn't recognize. _

_Then there was Fang. He looked at me, and just his eyes alone tried to console me. I couldn't believe he'd even look at me. His own brother, dead, and I had been the only one who could've possibly saved him. And I didn't. _

_My mother grabbed my shoulder and I yanked Iggy's hand into my own, fumbling for it. He carefully fitted his fingers into mine, giving them a squeeze. Mom steered us over to the Carters. I couldn't cry. I stared at Fang as he grabbed my other hand, wishing I could burst into tears. But the horrible truth was, I hadn't cried since the day Jason died. It was like I was in shock, like I was still processing. Like a really slow computer, still loading. _

_Still loading, even when we filtered into the small chapel. And then the casket was wheeled in. I couldn't sit still. Not with maybe the only boy I'd ever felt anything for laying three feet in front of me in a box. Not breathing. _

_I didn't stay. I couldn't. Fang was supposed to read the eulogy, but he stepped up to the pulpit and I could see the way he was trying to control himself, and the way he wasn't letting himself look up and accidentally see the coffin that confined his twin. He took deep breaths and finally looked up at the congregation. At me. I felt like it was a cry for help, his eyes boring into mine. _

_He didn't begin to speak. Everyone waited patiently, silently, and I fidgeted again for the thirtieth time. Iggy pressed his arm against mine, telling me silently that it was okay. But it wasn't okay. It felt like it would never be okay again. _

_I didn't stay, not even for Fang's speech. I stood and stumbled out of the church, not thinking, not breathing, just running as fast as I could, getting away, going somewhere, anywhere but there. _

_At first, I thought I heard someone. I tried to listen, but it seemed the only thing I could hear was my own ragged breathing and my own bare feet smacking against the pavement. - I'd slipped out of my ridiculous heels the moment I'd escaped the church. My arms pumped at my sides as I ran into the forest, folding myself deeper into the wilderness, wishing I could fold deeper into myself._

_My feet smashed into the cool dirt, occasionally stumbling over twigs and rocks. I stopped and I was wheezing, trying to recover from the panic my entire body seemed to have been in for the past three days. A hand wrapped around my wrist, and I spun around to come face to face with Fang, who was standing behind me, panting slightly. Had he just ran out of church like that to follow me, without giving his speech?_

"_I'm sorry," I gasped, pulling him against me. I pulled him tighter and tighter until I thought we'd both break. He was stiff at first, before slowly molding himself around me. "I'm so, so sorry." _

_Still no tears. _

"_You didn't do anything," Fang said. His voice was raspy because I knew he was holding back tears._

_That was just it. I didn't do anything. His brother died and I would forever be at fault because I didn't _do anything_. _

_I couldn't look Fang in the eye anymore. I shakily unclasped the necklace around my neck, and put it in his hands. _I'm sorry_, I thought. But that was it. _

I was tired of thinking. It felt like I never went a day without thinking about him. I wondered if that was every going to change.

I sluggishly made my way home.

A few minutes after, I walked into the house, setting my book bag on the floor by the door and kicking my feet out of my sneakers.

"Come here, Max."

I sighed, forcing myself to walk down the hall and join my mom in the living room.

I knew that when she looked at me, she noted my puffy face and my red, swollen eyes. But she took it all in stoically. I swear, this woman could give Fang a run for his money in the emotionless department. They should definitely play poker.

"I don't want you doing that ever again."

I could only stare at her. "_What_?"

It wasn't a confused what, like "What are you talking about, woman?" It was more of a shocked, "You've got to be kidding me" kind of what.

Mom obviously didn't get it.

"What you did last night, at dinner. You do not talk down to me, you do not humiliate me in front of my friends, and you do not stomp away after insulting your own mother."

Was she serious? I gritted my teeth, counting to ten slowly as to calm myself down.

"It was disrespectful and unacceptable. I don't care what your father says. You've had three years in which we coddled you, and you only took advantage of our trust. I'm done. If you want to be treated like an adult, start acting like one. Or I swear to God, you'll live under my roof until you can manage to make smart, reasonable decisions."

Not once during this speech did she raise her voice. She stayed quiet and composed, staring at me and making sure her words hit me and stayed in my mind. I chewed on my lip, trying to keep back the words that wanted to escape.

"We are going to start getting along, Max," my mother said, standing up. "Because if you don't shape up, I will _make _you. Is that clear?"

She pushed my hair behind my ears and tapped my chin, forcing me to look up into her eyes. I was breathing heavily, trying to keep myself under control.

"Go calm down."

Without any other choice, I hurried up the stairs and barged into my room, feeling the need to get my frustration out. Instead of crying my eyes out helplessly, which had unfortunately become a habit of mine, I went over to my dresser. I changed quickly into shorts and a shirt, pulling my hair up and grabbing my iPod.

I passed my mother again on my way out, and before she could ask, I said, "I'm going running."

Running. That was one of Dr. Jackson's venting solutions. Freshmen year, my dad had discovered a string of holes in the wall of my closet. Then, the year after that, I'd found solace in self-harm…but only twice. Iggy had found me the second time, and chewed me out so bad that I never, ever wanted to do that again. The disappointment and fear on his face had made me swear never to resort to that to get out my frustration.

So Dr. Jackson told me that whenever I felt stressed or overwhelmed or angry, I could leave those things behind and just run. There was something calming about running that I couldn't find anywhere else. I stared ahead, listened to music, and ran, leaving behind everything. All my problems, all my fears, all my memories. Everything that threatened to destroy me.

Except this.

I cursed under my breath. Of _course_, I'd forgotten one small detail; the route that I usually ran cut right by Dylan's house. When I was passing, he was just getting out of his car. His hook-up mobile. His quickie car. His…ride. Haaaaa.

"Max!"

I kept running, keeping my eyes forward, ignoring him.

"Max!" He started jogging after me.

"Leave me alone, dickhead," I called to him.

He eventually caught up with me, halfway down his street, and yanked on my arm, pulling me to a stop. I stared at him, examining his practically swollen-shut eye and the tape over his nose.

"Hey," he said, taking a few quick breaths. I stared straight ahead, past him, tapping my foot. Now that he had me, he didn't seem to know what to do with me.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he said, flashing his winning smile at me. I wasn't falling for it. "We didn't…I didn't…"

I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. He scratched the back of his head, examining his shoes.

"For?"

He tilted his head up to look at me. "For…sleeping with Nicole."

I reached out, patting his shoulder with one hard, rough clap. "Everyone regrets her sooner or later."

Then I turned around. I was about to continue on my run, feeling really good about having the last word and all, when he grabbed my arm again.

"Max!"

"_What_?"

"Let's fix this," he pleaded.

"What is there to fix, Dylan?" I said, yawning just to tick him off.

"It's just…we both don't need rumors about this around school…"

I stared at him in shock.

This was about his image.

I had to laugh. "Unbelievable."

"Look, I feel really bad about how this all played out," Dylan said. "But there's no reason for either of us to be hurt more than we already are."

Was he fucking out of his mind?

I held up a hand, stopping him. I totally didn't need this. Combined with my asshole mom, my misunderstanding dad, my distant best friend and the rest of my whole crazy messed up life, I did not need Dylan to fuck anything else up.

"This entire town knows I'm the unstable girl who's suicidal and addicted to drugs and lost and hell-bound and all you care about is _your image_? Sorry, Dylan. I just can't help you with this one. If anyone asks me why you're shoving your tongue down Nicole's throat, I'll tell them exactly what happened because, frankly, the stories you could come up with about me and how I ruined our relationship are far more worse than what you actually _did_. And that's sad." I shook my head. "There is no fixing this. Okay? If you come near me again, it won't be Fang and my brother who kick your ass."

I turned to cross the street, heading for the other sidewalk, away from him, when he called, "Hey! I could take your retard brother and that fag no problem!"

In two steps I was right under his nose, pressing him against his car's trunk. "Say that again," I said quietly, "and you won't be _able _to sleep with your whore of a girlfriend."

"You two used to be friends," Dylan pointed out, his face turned into an infuriating smirk. "She was never a whore before. Did sleeping with me just _turn _her all the sudden?"

I glared at him, tightening my fist's hold on the front of his shirt.

"Because I hate to break it to you, Max, but-" The fist that I wasn't holding his shirt with curled up and punched him hard in the stomach. I didn't need to hear what he had to say. He doubled over with an groan. I forced him to straighten himself, then hissed in his ear, "Leave me alone."

"Max!" I turned around, dropping Dylan, making him sag against his car. Fang and Iggy were parked across the street. "You good?" Fang called.

"Handling it!" I responded. I shot one last glance at Dylan, then jogged across the street to meet them.

But Dylan doesn't just give up on a fight, and I should've known that. He has to have the last word, and he has to make it _hurt_. He hobbled after me, then yanked on my arm, hard, right when I reached the passenger door.

He shoved me, stepping back, his eyes full of fiery hatred. "If one time made Nicole a whore, then you've been a slut for years. And by now, everyone knows it."

**A/N: Booooooo Dylan. **

**Review. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I don't even know what to say but THANK YOU. I never, ever, ever expected this much INCREDIBLE feedback. Um, not sure how much you guys are going to like this chapter...but it is a bit longer!**

_Set me free, leave me be._

_- Gravity, Sara Bareilles_

MAX

"This is stupid."

"Max, I promise this works. I did it when Quinn Olsen never called me back after our magical connection at Frankie's party, and I'm totally over him now."

I almost pointed out that she was only over Quinn Olsen because she had gotten together with his best friend, which had led to her making Quinn insanely jealous. But I didn't. Nudge finished taping the picture of Dylan on my bedroom door, than walked over to me and placed four, sharp darts in my palm.

"Give him hell," she said excitedly.

I groaned, staring at Dylan's face. At his deep blue eyes, his charming face, his cheeky smile.

I brought my hand back, ready to throw the first dart, aiming for right between his beautiful eyes…

Just as the dart left my fingers, my door opened and Fang's head replaced Dylan's. Nudge and I both gasped. Fang dodge the dart and it flew past him into the hall. He straightened up, glaring at me.

"What are you _doing_?" he asked incredulously.

"Nothing," I said. I refused to admit that I was participating in the cliché throw-darts-at-an-ex ceremony. "I'll meet you downstairs."

I pushed him out of the room and slammed the door shut, finding myself face-to-face with Dylan. I gasped, yanking the picture down, crumpling it up and throwing it in the garbage.

"Honey, you need to get over him," Nudge said.

"Yeah, well, it came as kind of a surprise for me, okay?" I mumbled. "I didn't exactly see it coming."

"Who could blame you? He's got that perfect, pretty boy act set up fooling everyone else," Nudge cooed, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. I shrugged, at the same time wiggling out of her grip. She sighed.

"I already told you how to get under his skin," Nudge said evilly, grinning at me.

"I can't use someone like that," I said, glancing at her.

"Like you haven't used anyone before," Nudge laughed, raising an eyebrow. "You meant to say you can't use _Fang _like that. But Max, he'd jump at the chance to help you out. 'Specially with this."

I chewed on my lip as we made our way downstairs. I could always ask Fang to go with me to Tim's party to flaunt myself in Dylan's face. But Fang would see right through that. And frankly, I didn't want him thinking badly of me any more than he already did. Fang was my best friend, and the last thing I wanted was for him to hate me. Ever since we were born, Fang and I were attached at the hip. We knew more about each other than we did ourselves. Or, at least, we used to. Before I lied to him about practically everything that was important to me.

The four of us - Jason, Iggy, Fang and I - were inseparable. My dad taught all four of us self defense, mostly because he wanted Iggy to be able to protect himself in any situation. Fang and I would always challenge each other, always push the other to do their best. When we were in eighth grade, we got to go to our very first dance. The eighth grade class at our middle school got to have a dance at the end of the year. Fang and Iggy had already asked out girls from our grade, and they both had dates. I hadn't been asked yet; Fang told me that one of the guys in our class, Evan, wanted to ask me, but Fang had helpfully informed him that I didn't want to go.

Fang and I fought about that for days. I _did _want to go, and Evan was nice. Just because Fang was my best friend didn't mean he could make decisions for me. Then, _Jason _asked me. Of all people. Jason.

Fang teased me mercilessly after that. It was so out of character for Jay; I was like one of the guys with them. He'd never shown interest before. But then he told me he really wanted to take me, so I said okay. After that, it was still Fang and Max and Jason and Iggy, but…instead it was _Jason and Max…_and Fang and Iggy. Jason and I started hanging out more and more often. Fang and I were still best friends, and we were still inseparable…but Jason was, like, my…boyfriend.

It was totally weird, being in a relationship with Jason and being best friends with his twin brother. All through Freshmen year and the summer after that, I'd go on dates with Jason then spend the night hanging out with Fang.

And that lasted a little over a year.

Then everything fell apart.

I was snapped out of my train of thought as Ig threw a piece of popcorn in my direction. It bounced off my shoulder and then fell to the floor. He and Fang were already situated comfortably on the couch, so I walked with Nudge to the door.

"I'm out," Nudge said, walking toward the door. "Text me later, okay?"

I nodded. After she'd driven off, I sighed, plopping down on the couch between Iggy and Fang. I rested my head on Ig's shoulder and kicked my feet up in Fang's lap. He threw popcorn up in the air and caught it in his mouth, then smirked at me. I closed my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked knowingly.

"Nothing," I breathed, shifting to get comfortable. Iggy moved his shoulder under my head.

"Whatever," Iggy said. "Dylan's a jerk."

"I guess," I said. But it still bothered me, the fight. It had been days ago, and now it was Friday, the day he and I were supposed to go to Tim's party. His words were stilling ringing in my head. "So, what's the plan for tonight, boys?"

Iggy took that as his signal to get up. "Ella's picking me up in a bit. We're going out to eat."

"Fun," I commented, but secretly, my heart dropped to my knees. I would be all alone with Fang. Fang and his never-ending curiosity. Fang seemed to realize this too, and he looked at me.

"Looks like Max'n I get to spend some quality time together."

Then he continued eating popcorn and flipping channels while I tried not to hyperventilate, anticipating our night of questioning.

I'd never been as uncomfortable in Fang's presence as I was minutes after Iggy left. My parents were out at some benefit my mother had organized with her volunteer group, so we were completely alone. Fang stayed silent, as if he knew the suspense were killing me. Or maybe he just wanted me to instigate the conversation.

"Okay, let's have it out," I said finally. "What are you dying to know?"

Fang looked at me, then turned off the TV. Ugh. I wish he hadn't done that. I wish he could've just…left me something as a distraction.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing a therapist?"

I choked on my next breath, trying not to freak out. How had he even -

Damn it.

Of _course _Iggy had told him.

"Why do you think?"

We had never really talked about Jason's death. Me and Fang. Or, more accurately, me and anyone. I kind of refused to talk about it. Come to think of it, none of Fang's family knew any of the details of Jay's death. Because I was the only one that was there when it happened. And I had never spoken about it.

"Did you think I would judge you? Really?" Fang asked quietly. "I saw one too, Max. For a long time. But you…"

"I what?" I said, forcing myself to look at him. "You don't have to say it. We both know it's true. I was too weak to handle it. I fell apart. Well you know what, Fang? We can't all be as strong and unresponsive as you. Some people can't just brush aside tragedy and start a new life." Some people are stuck in their old, sucky life. Like me.

By the end of my speech I was looking away from him again. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth?

Fang moved closer to me. "No one expected you to be strong and unresponsive. No one expected that from me, either. It was just my way of handling it. We all have our own ways of handling things."

"And mine was drugs and rebellion and depression," I said, glaring up at him.

That was news to him. He watched me, as if he couldn't believe it. "Drugs?"

I nodded, feeling like an exhibit at a zoo. "Stealing, drinking, fighting, sex, pills…"

He didn't say anything, and I was glad. He couldn't possibly know what to say. Now he knew what I was, what I'd spent the last two years becoming. He was probably disgusted.

"That's why my mom hates me," I said. "My dad, even Ig. They're all disappointed."

My heart was slamming in my chest. I couldn't believe all of this was pouring out right now.

"I hate myself, too."

"Well, that's ridiculous," Fang insisted.

"That's how I feel," I said weakly.

"Well, you shouldn't feel that way."

"I can't just _stop_."

Fang didn't know what to say.

"Max, we never did talk about…that night."

I absolutely refused to look at him. I couldn't talk to him about the night Jason died. He would hate me if he knew the truth. I shook my head.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"Fang, please."

And then we sat, silently, and I couldn't open up to him and tell him. I couldn't.

So it got super awkward.

After a few minutes, Fang asked, "Are you hungry?"

I looked up at him, relieved that he was changing the subject. He knew I was uncomfortable.

"Starving."

"Okay, how do you feel about Chinese?"

"Delicious," I said, still afraid to trust myself to speak.

"You still like chow mein?"

I nodded.

"I'll be back," Fang said, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. He let himself out the front door and soon I heard his Jeep driving away down the road.

I sighed. Now I was left alone with my own thoughts. Fang had brought up that night and all I could do was think about it. I held my head, trying to think of something else.

It wasn't working.

When I thought that I was sunk and wouldn't be able to save me from myself, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was Sam.

_You still busy tonight?_

I quickly thought of Fang. Then I thought about how he'd probably still try to weasel some information out of me. Then I thought about how much I didn't want to talk about it. Sam could be a pretty good distraction right about now. I bit my lip.

_Nope. _

I hit send.

A minute later, I got a response.

_We'll pick you up in five. _

Nudge was wrong. I didn't need Fang's help to give Dylan hell.

I could do it myself.

I threw down my phone and ran up the stairs, pushing into my bedroom. I got dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of dark jeans. My tangled hair was pulled back as neatly as possible behind my head.

When Reece's Mustang pulled up outside my house, spraying gravel across the walk, I wondered if this had been the right decision. Fang still hadn't gotten back yet - the closest take-out restaurant was thirty minutes away.

I left a note on the coffee table telling him I was sorry and then I left, closing the door behind me. Sam had gotten out of the passenger seat and when I looked into the back I noticed it was already occupied.

By Dylan.

_Don't forget about Tim's party on Friday_, Dylan had said. _Sam and Reece are riding with us._

How could I have forgotten? How could I have been stupid enough to think that Sam was asking me without any influence? He was probably put up to asking me to come by Dylan himself. Probably just a ploy to drag me to the party anyways, no doubt so Dylan could humiliate me.

For a second, I felt like going back inside and waiting for them to leave. But, no. I would not be a wimp. I was going to get in the car and sit next to Dylan and be so badass that he wouldn't know what hit him.

Then I saw Nicole sitting next to him.

Fuck.

I walked up to Sam and gave him a tight smile, glaring at him. He'd closed the passenger door behind him and was standing nervously before me.

"God, Sam, you'll do anything to look good in front of Dylan," I hissed.

"Max, I didn't know Dylan was-"

"Save it." I yanked open the passenger door and pushed past him, sliding into the seat and closing the door before he could object.

"Max, the seat back there has your name on it-"

"Can it, Reece, before I rip your head off," I mumbled.

"Alrighty, then, tonight's gonna be a fun night," Reece said. Sam reluctantly got back in the car.

"Hello, Max," Nicole said nervously.

I ignored her before I said something I'd regret. We may have been friends in the past, but now she was as good as dirt to me. She seemed to know, seemed to really regret it. But she had slept with my boyfriend anyways, and hadn't dumped him or ditched him yet. Freaking slut.

The rest of the ride was hell. I had no extra clothes, no sleeping bag, no nothing. And the party was supposed to be a camping trip. Of course Reece and Sam were probably both going to get wasted and stay the night, and what would I be stuck doing?

I would have to call someone to pick me up. Probably Nudge. I started regretting ditching Fang as soon as my butt hit the seat of Reece's car.

But I really regretted it when I realized where we were going.

I couldn't believe this.

I just couldn't fucking believe it.

"Man, this brings back memories," Dylan crooned from the backseat, breaking away from Nicole long enough to spit the words practically in my ear. "Don't it, Max?"

The sign at the entrance to the camping grounds read _Lewis Creek Camping Grounds. _

I closed my eyes. No. No. No.

Dylan knew the entire time. Of course he knew.

"Hey, Max," Dylan said from the backseat. It was then that I realized he was already buzzed. My God. "Don't you just love this place?"

Why had I agreed to this?

"When was the last time you were here, Max?" Dylan pushed on. "Freshman year?"

My fists curled. Reece was driving the campground's slow speed limit, 10 mph, but I could already see Tim's party down the gravel road, leading through the trees. His huge bonfire was easy to spot.

"Freshman year with your _boyfriend_, Jason?"

"Dylan," Reece said finally, glancing at me worriedly. "That's enough."

"Shut up," Dylan shouted. Sam was staring at me nervously. I kept my eyes locked on the road ahead, trying not to hyperventilate.

I stared out the window, watching the camping lots go by slowly, hoping with all my heart that my luck wasn't as bad as I thought it was.

But it was.

Oh, God.

It was the same lot. The same _exact _one.

"It's the same lot, ain't it? I _may've _helped Tim book the party."

Because Dylan was the only one I had _ever _talked to about it. I hadn't told him what happened, I hadn't even told Fang that, but I _had _told him that we'd been camping. Both our families, camping, just like every year on my and Iggy's birthday. _Every year_. The same site: 1208. My favorite number, Iggy's favorite number. 12. 8.

1208.

That was the lot that Tim's group of drunk, grinding friends were partying on tonight.

"I'm sure Jay'll be partying with us," Dylan sneered, "in _spirit_."

"Dylan, shut up, you're being a dick," Nikki whispered.

"Nicole, _please_," Dylan spat. Then he looked at me through the car mirror. "Because he's dead, right Max?"

I turned around in my seat and punched Dylan in the face with all my might. His nose started gushing blood.

I didn't even make Reece stop the car. He was going so slow that I simply opened the door and stepped out, standing on the side of the gravel road. I could hear Reece screaming about staining the backseat with blood and Nicole telling Dylan he was an idiot. Way to figure it out, sister.

Sam jumped out of the other side of the car.

"Max, I'm so sorry! I didn't know-"

I shrugged him off, heading down the road towards the crowd of teenagers. Then I heard Dylan struggling out of Reece's car.

"Max!" he called. "Come back, baby!"

I ignored him and faced the party. It had been a while since I was at a party. Especially one of Tim's. And most of them I either didn't remember or I didn't want to. But this time I walked straight into the crowd of teens, avoiding spilled drinks and vomit and the occasional small group of obnoxious drunks. All these people had seen me at my worst before. I was most definitely experiencing them at theirs.

"Maxie!" Tim was a big guy, buffed up and muscular. We'd been friends since before my downward spiral; he was one of the good ones. He was pretty protective of me, but at the same time didn't suffocate me. He was a pretty cool guy, when he wasn't drunk. I couldn't quite tell if he was or not.

"Get off, Tim," I hissed.

I couldn't believe I was standing here on this piece of land. I couldn't believe I was only a few steps away from the exact cliff…

I felt dizzy.

Tim's strong arms wrapped around me and I felt my feet lift off the ground.

"Max, damn it, how long has it been?" Tim asked. He wasn't drunk yet, but he had a drink in his hand.

"A long time, Tim," I said, pushing him away. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Someone's hot," Tim laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Who pissed you off?"

Just then he heard Dylan shouting in the distance and looked at me knowingly.

"Trouble in paradise?"

I was shaking. Dylan's words in my head combined with the memories that were attacking me now that I was standing here, for the first time in three years…it was all too much.

I looked up at him. "Haven't you heard? We broke up."

"Damn, girl," Tim said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "You need a drink."

"I don't want one," I said.

"Then let's cool you off, yeah?"

His arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and before I knew what he was doing, he'd moved toward the cliff.

_The _cliff.

All I could see was Jason jumping. That night, after everyone was asleep. Jason jumping off this very cliff into the dark blue, churning water below.

I screamed like I'd never screamed before. I bucked against Tim and screamed for him to put me down, put me down, put me down.

There were boys in the water below, boys from my grade. I knew every single one - my senior class was only about forty-five kids. Some I'd even dated. Or just hooked up with. Boys all the same.

Like Jay.

And then I only saw Jason in the water below. But he wasn't waving, like these boys. And he wasn't calling out to me. He wasn't doing anything.

"Let _go_!" I screamed. "Let go of me! LET GO!"

"Jesus, Max," Tim said, stepping back and dropping me on the ground. "What the hell was that about?"

Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I made it to my feet. Tim saw my face and immediately sobered up, stepping toward me. "Max, I didn't-"

"Timothy," I heard a voice slur. I looked up to see Dylan standing beside Tim. Nicole, Reece and Sam were behind him, watching uncertainly. "Can't throw her off the damn cliff where her boyfriend snapped his own neck."

Tim's eyes widened. He obviously hadn't known. Now he looked at me, his eyes softer than I'd ever seen them, and he looked like he wanted to do something for me. He'd known Jason. Fuck, everyone had known Jason.

Dylan's eyes focused on me. Then he said, "_I _was gonna to do that."

Dylan reached for me, but Tim stepped in the way. "What the hell is your problem, man? Can't you see she's upset?"

"And I'm not upset?" Dylan demanded drunkenly.

Tim shook his head, putting his arm around me. He looked at the other three, watching silently. "Get him out of here. Now."

Tim watched them make their way back to Reece's car with Dylan in tow, then turned to look at me.

"I'm sorry, Max," he said. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. I just wanted to go home.

I looked up, expecting to see Fang's black Jeep sitting on the gravel road. I expected to see Fang there, as I always did when something was falling apart. He always came after me. Always found me.

But not this time.

Fang wasn't there.

And I hated myself a little bit more, as if that were even possible.

• • •

I didn't remember the party. Not because I was drunk - I refused to take a sip of anything. Even when Tim dragged my to a cooler and opened the fresh bottle of water before my eyes, to convince me there was no alcohol inside, I still refused.

I couldn't drink. All I could think was, _Fang would be so disappointed. So disappointed if I drank. _He probably already was upset with me, since I'd ditched him and went to this stupid party. God, he probably hated me. Probably why he didn't come pick me up.

No, I didn't remember the party because I sat by the road, as far from the cliff as I could. And I didn't cry but I didn't do anything else, either, and suddenly I didn't know what to do. I honestly, really didn't.

Tim ditched his own party to drive me home. Not for the first time, either. He was sober, because I made him walk a straight line before I got in the car with him. I also tried to make him say the alphabet backwards, but he said, "Are you kidding? I can't even do that when I'm fucking sober."

And I believed he wasn't drunk, because Drunk Tim would've tried anyways.

It was around three am when he pulled into my driveway. All he said was, "I'm sorry, Max."

I shut the door then looked down at him through the window of his car. "Thanks for driving me home."

I walked inside. It was quiet, and all the lights had been off through the windows, so I figured everyone was asleep.

I went into the kitchen, hungry for something, and opened the fridge.

There, on the shelf, was a take out box with my name scrawled on it. A fortune cookie sat on top.

I cracked open the cookie.

_Everything happens for a reason. _


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Bad day. **

**Ugh. **

**I'm going to spoil you, but it comes with a price. If I update now, tomorrow, and Friday…You guys are getting a cliffhanger to fret over. All weekend. **

**But, that's the price we have to pay for frequent updates. **

**By the way: THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reviews. You rock my socks. **

_I swear I've got a problem they can't even diagnose._

_- Acting Up, G-Eazy_

MAX

It was one of those days for me.

Jason's face was in my head no matter what. If I closed my eyes, I saw him. His face, his image from that night, the night everything changed. His voice was crystal clear in my mind. I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezed my eyes closed, and waited for his face to disappear. It didn't.

I flew out of my chair in the waiting room and forced my way into the bathroom. It was a single person restroom, so I flipped the lock. I gripped the porcelain sink and stared into the mirror, wondering how hard I'd have to bash my head against the mirror to do the trick. Two, maybe three hits tops? Would it only knock me out? Would it be enough?

_Calm down, _I thought forcefully, making myself count to three. Instead of smashing my head against the glass mirror, I leaned down and splashed cold water on my face, feeling my body temperature drop drastically. _Don't do this now. You will not commit suicide in your therapist's bathroom. _

Finally I could function without wanting to use everyday objects for self-harm purposes. I unlocked the bathroom door and walked out into the small lobby, feeling half-awake. Half-alive.

"He's ready now, Max," Sheryl said kindly.

Awesome. I headed down the hall towards Dr. Jackson's office and let myself in.

"It is four fifteen on Monday, February twelfth. Max Ride is here for a one-hour session," he said into the recorder. "Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?"

I shook my head. All I wanted was to go home and bury myself under my covers. Frankly, I was surprised I'd had the will to get out of bed at all today.

"How was school today, Max?" Dr. Jackson asked, straightening his already straight tie. This guy wasn't foolin' me.

"Didn't go," I muttered. My eyes flitted up to the Picasso painting over his head. The painting today had a less thought-provoking influence on me. Instead, I felt a wave of helplessness. I glanced away from the painting.

Since he couldn't ask his usual second: _Got any homework?, _Dr. Jackson asked me why.

Why?

I spent all weekend hiding out at Nudge's house, ignoring my mom and dad's phone calls and any of Fang's texts until I snuck back in late last night. Dad woke me up this morning, kissing my forehead and saying nothing. It was already about eight when he got me up, and Iggy and Fang had already gone to school. He told me I could stay home. Dad always had a way of reading how I felt.

I didn't talk to Fang and I didn't want to.

"Didn't feel up to it," I said, picking at the loose strings under my fingers.

"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Jackson asked me, his eyes on my fingers. I forced myself to still my hand.

Usually I'd say I felt fine. But you know what? I didn't feel fine today.

I felt like a fucking mess.

Ever since Tim's party…ever since almost being thrown off the cliff…I hadn't been able to think of anything but that night. I'd only thought about those vital few seconds, the last seconds I'd been with Jason, alive. The last words I'd said to him. A million choices I could've made that may've saved his life. A million things I should've said to make those last seconds _count_.

I just shrugged. How could I ever make him understand? How could anyone understand? It wasn't as easy as they say it should be. People say if you're depressed, if you're upset, that you should talk to someone. Tell them about it. But it wasn't that easy.

Really, if you are depressed or upset, no one is going to be able to understand exactly how you feel. No one who has never been depressed or upset will understand. And I look at Dr. Jackson, and I look at his kind smile and his bright, hopeful eyes and I don't think he'd understand me at all.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

Not with him, anyways.

But I'd give anything to sit down and talk to Jason.

Maybe Jason would understand.

• • •

Fang walked into the house after dinner on Tuesday and kicked his sneakers off by the door. He greeted my dad, who was doing the dishes by hand since our dishwasher was broken.

"Hello, Jared," Dad said.

Fang walked into the living room, saw me with my earbuds tucked into my ears and a book in my lap and sat down next to me on the couch.

"Hey."

Nothing about Friday.

Nothing about ignoring him all weekend.

Nothing about skipping school Monday.

Nothing about ditching after second period today.

"Hey," I said, pulling my headphones out. I put my bookmark in my book and set it on the table in front of me, leaning back against the couch.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

Fang moved closer to me. I glanced over his shoulder, seeing my dad's back as he faced the opposite direction. Why did I suddenly feel weird about my dad witnessing me and Fang sitting together on the couch?

"Listen, Max. You don't have to hide from me. You don't have to lie to me. Frankly," Fang smirked lightly, nudging my arm, "you can't get rid of me."

I stared at him, wondering if he could possible be serious. He wasn't mad at me at all? I pushed him away this weekend, just like I pushed away everyone else, and yet here he was. Sitting in my living room, smirking at me.

"I have to admit, I was a bit hurt that you ditched me on Friday."

I glanced into the kitchen again to see my dad stacking dishes in the cabinet. He didn't appear to be paying attention to our conversation.

"Can't hurt steel," I said, punching his arm. Fang grinned.

And maybe we could be normal again. I stood up and motioned for him to follow me.

"You know," I said as we moved upstairs to my room, "your birthday's Sunday."

"Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Really."

Fang smirked, kicking my bedroom door closed behind him and shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked at me with a glint in his eyes. "What are you going to get me for my eighteenth birthday?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

Fang spread out on my bed, fluffing my pillow and crossing his arms under his head.

"Dunno."

"What's Iggy getting you?"

"Ig said we'd go to a strip club," Fang said.

"Ig says a lot of stupid things," I said, nudging his leg with my foot from my spot at the end of my bed. "Seriously, Fang."

My bedroom door burst open and Iggy was standing in the doorframe, his face furious.

"Guess what I heard today, Max?"

I inwardly groaned; his tone hinted that it wasn't good. "What, Ig?"

"I heard that you went to Tim Rogan's party and got fucking _wasted _and beat up Dylan when he tried to apologize to you, then you threatened Nicole."

"Iggy, will you shut up!" I hissed, pulling him into the room and slamming the door behind him. Thank God my mother was at her book club. Hopefully my dad didn't hear him.

"There was also something about doing certain _favors _for drugs-"

"People _suck_," I said. "I didn't do any of that."

Iggy's sightless gaze was locked on me. He raised an eyebrow.

I gritted my teeth. "Okay," I admitted, "I punched Dylan in the face."

"Why did you go to that party?" Iggy demanded.

"Because I make my own decisions," I said with irritation. "Try it sometime."

"I'd rather not end up in rehab, thanks," Iggy said, opening my door to leave again.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it!"

Iggy slammed the door behind him. I looked at Fang.

"He didn't believe me," I said, trying not to show how much Ig's lack of faith hurt me. "Whatever. Not the first time." Not like he had a lot of reason to trust me in the first place.

"He just tries to look out for you," Fang said.

I shrugged.

"When did you go to Tim's party?" Fang asked.

Uh-oh. Rocky territory.

"Friday," I said.

Fang nodded.

"It was horrible."

Fang nodded again.

"I'm sorry."

Fang shrugged.

"It was at the campground."

Fang's eyes locked on mine and I felt the temperature drop twenty degrees.

"Forget it," I mumbled. I'd thought we could talk about it. I'd thought I could do it, but I couldn't. Everything in my body wanted me to shut my mouth and leave. It was instinctual for me to shut down and block people out when the topic of Jason's death came up.

"Max," Fang started.

"No," I whispered. "Please, Fang. I shouldn't have said anything."

Fang watched me for a second, silent. "I know what I want for my birthday."

I looked up at him.

"What?"

Fang stood up. "Just…be at my house Sunday morning. Early. Seven. Okay?"

I stood up, too, and walked with him downstairs, to the door. "Why?"

Fang looked at me in silence for a second. He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, smiling lightly at me.

"Just be there."

**A/N: What does Fang want for his birthday? **

**It's about nine PM here, and I am so wiped out. This day has been…ugh. **

**Review! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey there. Tomorrow's chapter is just...awesome. I really can't wait until you read it. **

**But, I have to. So read this one, instead! **

_And there's nothing you can do about it now._

_- Blood, The Middle East_

MAX

It was seven twenty three when I walked up the front steps to Fang's house on Sunday morning. As soon as I stepped onto Fang's front porch, he threw the door open.

"I thought you'd forgotten," he said.

"And miss my best friend's 18th birthday? Never," I said. "Happy Birthday, Fang."

Fang smiled, then cocked his head. "What are you wearing?"

I glanced down at my worn-out hoodie and my ripped jeans. "Uh, clothes? What are _you _wearing?" Fang was dressed in black dress pants and a - wait for it - _green _button up shirt. "Is that…green?"

Fang nodded, looking down at it. I noticed that he had a black tie in his hand. "Jason's favorite color, you know."

I nodded back. "Uh, looks like we're matching," I said softly, pulling up my hoodie to reveal my forest green top. Fang smiled.

"Hey, Mom?"

"What's up?" She stepped into the doorway as she tried to poke beautiful gold earrings through her ears. "Well? Don't just stand there, child. Come on in."

I stepped into the house. That was when I realized that I was _way _underdressed. Fang's mom was in a nice dress and his dad was in a suit.

"Um…" I looked at him awkwardly.

"Do you have any dresses?" Fang asked.

The last dress I'd worn was the one at Jay's funeral, three years ago. Dresses were not my style, at all. I looked at Fang, waiting for him to realize the only possible answer to that question.

"_Okay_," he said. "Mom, do you have anything that'll look good on Max?"

Fang's mom smiled at me. "I think I've got just the thing."

Mrs. Carter fixed me up with a black skirt and a grey cardigan, letting me keep my green tank top. She gave me flats that were surprisingly comfortable, then pulled me downstairs again.

"We're going to be late," she fussed as she pulled Mr. Carter to the car.

"Where are we going?" I whispered in Fang's ear.

"Church."

"_What_?" I demanded.

"It's my birthday. Can you just…do this? For me?"

The little bastard. I gritted my teeth. That was what he wanted for his birthday? That was his present? Me, going to church with his family. I stared at him for a long second.

"Fang, I -" 

"Get in the car," he said, silently willing me not to argue with him. And I almost didn't, because it was his birthday and all. But…

"I haven't been to church in…" I trailed off.

"I know. Just come with me."

I stared at him, chewing the inside of my cheek while I weighed my options. I could back out on the one thing Fang wanted from me on his birthday, or I could suck it up and go to church for the first time in three years.

"Fine," I mumbled, and Fang threw his arm around me and dragged my toward the car. "But only because I didn't get you a present."

The ride to church was nothing like a normal ride with my family. In fact, I totally forgot that we were going to church until we pulled into the small parking lot of the only church in our town. There were long stained-glass windows that showed scripture stories, like The Last Supper and such. I hadn't set foot in there since the summer after freshmen year, and honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted too.

As we walked toward the building, I saw my mom and dad standing with Iggy at the door.

"What?" I asked, turning to look at Fang. "But they go-"

"On Saturdays. I know. This is different."

The regulars were handing out church newsletters at the door, and Fang took one. I looked over. Right at the top was a title that said _In Memory of Jason Carter. _

"No."

I stopped right in the doorway before my feet hit the clean, white tile. Fang stopped beside me, looking down at me in surprise.

"Fang, I can't."

"Yes," he said, holding his hand out to me. "You can. Come on."

"Fang…"

"Listen to me," Fang said quietly. He pulled me aside and our families walked into the church. I stared up at him, my entire body begging me to rip away from him and run, get as far away as I could. "I know you don't think you can do this. But I think you can. I know you think you should just run - but, Max, you can't spend your entire life running away."

It was easy for him to say. He'd ran away - he'd escaped to life in California. But I looked at him, at my best friend who was trying to _help _me, and I let him pull me inside.

First mistake.

• • •

"Max!"

I was halfway down the stone steps leading to the street by the time Fang was after me. There was not a soul in sight outside - it was the middle of the service, and everyone who showed their face in this town was in Sunday morning mass or still sleeping.

I stumbled down the steps, ripping off the gray cardigan Mrs. Carter had fitted me with. I was burning up - I was going insane.

Fang caught up with me at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my wrist, turning me to face him. I dragged in a breath.

"Take me in that place…everyone sitting in there knows that I shouldn't be in that church…and it's all about Jay…I can't be in there…can't…"

"Stop," Fang said calmly. He grabbed my arms roughly, as if yanking me out of my little panic attack. "What happened in there? Everything was fine and then all of the sudden…" he trailed off, staring at me, because apparently my appearance was enough of an explanation.

What _happened_?

Pastor Williams had dedicated the entire service to Jason. Everyone in town was sitting in there. Everyone in town also knew that was my first time to church in years. Every single pair of eyes were locked on Fang's family and mine as Pastor Williams spoke about eternal peace and God's reasoning for tragedy and loss.

Tragedy and loss aren't things to be made sense of! There is no reason for it!

Eventually it was more than I could handle. Pastor Williams said, "Let us thank the Lord for giving Jason eternal happiness-"

And I was out of there.

"It's bullshit."

"It's not," Fang said softly.

"You're telling me you can sit in there and listen to him try and make sense of Jason's death-"

"He isn't trying to make sense of it," Fang said. "He's just-"

"He said there was a reason he died! A _reason_! Have you figured out that reason yet, Fang? I haven't."

Fang had no response for that. I realized I was being way too harsh; I wasn't the only one who had lost someone. He'd lost a brother. A twin. I took a deep breath.

"I'm not going in there," I said. I looked away from him.

"Okay," Fang said finally. "Me neither. But I have one other place I want you to go with me."

I looked up at him. I had an idea I knew where he wanted to go. Fang and I ran by his house. We quickly removed the ragtop roof of his black Jeep and took off. I knew where we were headed. This particular dirt road only led to one place. Content, I leaned my head back against the headrest and watched the trees fly by. I yanked my hair out of my ponytail and it was immediately picked up by the wind, whipping around my face. It was a bright, sunny morning.

"I was here this morning," I said as Fang parked his Jeep on the hill. "Why I was late."

Fang grabbed my hand as we walked through the endless rows of graves, his way of silently comforting me. I'd stopped by the cemetery to put flowers on Jay's grave around seven that morning. When we got there, Fang saw the big bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers and gave me a knowing look.

"Did you put those there?" Fang asked as we stood in front of Jason's tombstone. I nodded wordlessly, kneeling down. He lowered himself next to me, reaching out to touch one of the flowers.

"When Jason and I started dating, and you and Ig wouldn't leave us alone," I said softly, "we'd go to the field behind your house. We'd pick the wild sunflowers and watch clouds…it was his favorite spot." I smiled at him. "I wanted him to have a little piece of it today."

I scooted over next to Fang. We were definitely a sight to behold; both sitting in the grass in our church clothes, leaning against each other. Fang looked sideways at me.

"You know the kind of shit we'd get into tonight if he was here?" he mused.

I smiled, closing my eyes. "I can only imagine."

Fang's eyes caught something on my chest and his hand reached down, pulling my locket out of the collar of my top.

"Max…"

"Your mom gave it back to me," I said softly.

"Good," Fang said quietly. "It belongs to you."

I grabbed it from him and turned the golden heart over and over between my fingertips.

"Do you ever think about what you would say, if you could talk to him?" I asked.

Fang looked at me. I felt the need to explain myself.

"I mean, sometimes I just-"

Fang's look silenced me. I waited until he said, "I think I'd tell him he was an idiot."

I stared at him. My memories of that night ambushed me immediately.

_Jason smashed his mouth to mine, hard. It wasn't like the other kisses we'd shared before. Usually, they were more meaningful than this. No, tonight, his lips were desperate and reckless against mine. The chilly nighttime air swirled around us. We stood on the rocky dirt of the cliff, clinging to each other, his arms surrounding me and pulling me into him. _

"_I love you, Max," he said. His lips were lifted up into a goofy, loveable smile; the smile that I couldn't help but smile back at. _

_I rolled my eyes at him, wrapping my arms around myself and taking a step back. "You're an idiot."_

"No," I choked out, looking at Fang with an alarmed look. "Are you serious?"

Fang's face showed surprise, as if he didn't expect that reaction from me. He probably expected a laugh. He raised an eyebrow.

"He never took anything seriously," Fang said, his voice deep and void of emotion. "He jumped off a fucking cliff without a care in the world. Yeah. He was an idiot."

I closed my eyes, leaning away from Fang. Guilt was wracking through my body, almost making me sick.

"I don't know," Fang said. "I think that if I could talk to him, I'd tell him he threw everything away."

"That's a horrible thing to say."

"Why? Because it's true?"

"If I got a chance to talk to your brother, I…I would tell him I missed him. Not that he was a screw up."

"I didn't say he was a screw up. I said he threw everything away. He did. He was careless, and look at where it got us. Wrecked us all emotionally, ruined our lives."

"No," I said, standing up. "No, he didn't do that."

I did it.

"Max?"

I stared down at Fang, feeling it all coming together in my mind. "Just because someone dies doesn't mean it's their fault that everyone who loved them falls apart. No. That's completely our fault, Fang. My fault. I could've stayed strong. I should've. But instead, look at me. God."

I took a deep breath, looking up across the graveyard.

"I wasn't trying to blame him," Fang said quietly.

I shook my head, a sick, painful feeling filling me up. "No," I said finally. "But I was."

For a long time, that's all I'd done. I'd blamed all of it on Jason. Why'd he have to leave? Why'd he have to screw everything up? Why'd he have to be so damn careless? It was easier that way. It was easier for me to push the blame onto Jason. That was what everyone in town said; _She's like that because of Jason_.

Then, hearing Fang voice my exact inner thoughts…it made me feel like a complete and total jerk. That was _wrong_. Everything that I was today was my fault, not Jason's.

I was an idiot to ever think otherwise.

_I _was the idiot.

God. What a realization.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here it is! See you Sunday night/Monday!**

_All those times we looked up at the sky, looking out so far it felt like we could fly._

_- Stars, Grace Potter and The Nocturnals_

MAX

Hours later, when he found me again, I was lying on a quilt in the field behind Fang's house. I'd taken off my locket and was holding it above my head, watching it glint in the afternoon sun. I sighed and opened it, looking at the picture inside.

I closed it and clutched it to me chest.

"Hey," Fang said. "Knew I'd find you here."

I watched him kick off his shoes at the edge of the blanket and then he laid down next to me. He set down a blue lunchbox next to my head. I glanced at it questioningly.

"Didn't have a picnic basket," He said, unzipping the lunchbox. I levered myself up on my elbows. He'd packed us sandwiches, sodas and my favorite fruit - strawberries. He grabbed a sandwich and held it out to me, then pulled it back at the last second. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Ham and cheese, no crust?"

I grinned. "Yeah," I said, taking it from him. "Except I'm a big girl, now. I can handle the crust." I took a bite, chewing slowly. "Thanks for making us food."

"I didn't," Fang said, leaning back next to me and eating his own sandwich. "Mom did."

I swallowed thickly. "I hope she knows I-"

"She said don't sweat it," Fang said. "She also chewed me out for making you go in the first place. Your mom, on the other hand…"

"Ugh," I mumbled. "She's a different story. I know I'll be in for it when I go home. 'Why would you shame our family like that? You're such an embarrassment! Get your act together! The Lord's house is not a place to create a scene, Max!'" 

Fang rolled onto his side and looked at me, smirking at my attempt to mimic my mother's prissy voice. "What do you think it'd take to get her to back off?"

I sighed. I reached into the lunch pail and grabbed a soda. Then I sat up and opened it, taking a long drink. The first drink tickled my throat and made my eyes water.

"I would have to become the perfect, untroubled, angelic daughter she's always wanted, attitude and reputation included," I drawled. "Simple really."

Fang cracked a grin at that.

"I mean, it _would _be simple," I corrected, looking down at him, "if I weren't so fucked up."

"Right," Fang said with amusement, pointing at me. "That needs to be factored into the equation somewhere."

"It's impossible," I said, "for me to ever be the daughter she wants. She's insatiable. Hell, Iggy does everything right and yet he's not perfect in her eyes because he's blind."

"Do you ever wish you could just run away to somewhere completely different, like…New York? Or-"

"California?" I said snidely. Fang frowned at me.

"There was nothing fun about moving to California."

I sighed, finishing off the last bite of my sandwich. "Fine. Sorry. Continue."

"Do you ever wish you could get away for a while and just become someone else?"

All the time. I stared at him, shocked that he, too, had secretly wanted to do that now and again.

"It's impossible to get out of this town," I said.

"You just got to do it right," Fang said.

I thought about that for a second.

"Let's go."

Fang looked up from his sandwich and squinted at me. "What?"

"Fang, let's go to New York."

"Good one," Fang said, then saw my face. "What? Max, are you kidding?"

"No," I said. "We could. You've got a car, my dad's got a wallet full of credit cards…how long would it take us to drive to New York?"

"Uh, six hours? Eight?" Fang deadpanned. "We are not going."

"Come on! I wouldn't have to deal with my stupid parents, or the other two hundred judgmental assholes who live here. We could get away from _everything_."

"We can't do that," Fang said with finality. "Get the thought out of your head, okay? We aren't doing it."

I sighed, laying back onto the blanket. "We could, too," I said stubbornly.

"Max."

I groaned and grabbed a strawberry, taking a bite. I hummed in approval. "I don't know why you always liked peaches. They're disgusting and fuzzy. But strawberries…hot damn."

Fang rolled his eyes. "I don't hate strawberries."

I dug around in the pail for a strawberry to give to Fang. I picked one up, inspected it, then decided it looked too delicious and set it aside.

"Hm…not this one, _I _want this one…not this one…"

As I dug through the strawberries, Fang turned onto his side so he was facing me and leaned forward, taking a bite out of the one I'd already taken a bite out of. I shoved him back and he flopped onto the quilt, snickering, chewing slowly. A bit of pink juice dribbled down his chin. I blinked, watching him swipe his hand across his mouth, watching his throat move as he swallowed.

"Get your own," I said finally, throwing the green stem left into the lunch box and grabbing out the sweetest, juiciest looking one.

I watched Fang as I ate my way through two more strawberries. He laid back and closed his eyes, crossing his arms under his head. His face was completely peaceful.

"Thanks, Fang," I whispered. He turned his head to face me, opening an eye. He smiled the most breathtakingly incredible, lopsided smile. My heart skipped.

Then I did something really reckless.

I rolled over, bumping the lunchbox with my knee in the process. The strawberries rolled out onto the blanket. I leaned down, grabbed Fang's shirt, and kissed him.

What. Was. I. Doing?

What. Was. My. Problem?

He didn't push me off.

He should've.

I didn't pull away.

I should've.

We laid there and kissed and grabbed at each other desperately. I rolled over to straddle him, yanked the front of his shirt and pulled him up so he was leaning back on his elbows. One of his hands came up and cupped my cheek, his touch making my skin tingle. The taste of strawberries was delicious and sweet - the taste of Fang, even better. It was messy and perfect and stupid and breathtaking and scary and unfair and awesome and-

"Max? Fang?"

My mouth went limp against his when my brother's voice called for us from Fang's house. Our lips lingered for a moment, not moving but pressing, not kissing but breathing, and then I pulled back.

I had just kissed my best friend.

That wasn't even the worst part. When I pulled back, I immediately thought of Jason. Of days Jason and I would do the same exact thing; lay out on a blanket, dream about escaping to exotic places, pretend we were completely alone…kiss…

Fang.

Wasn't.

His.

Brother.

And he never would be.

• • •

Monday morning at six thirty, Fang didn't just wait in his Jeep for Iggy and I, like usual. I was in the bathroom upstairs when I heard Iggy greet him. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs.

I quickly rinsed my mouth and dropped my toothbrush in the cup on the sink. Then I booked down the hall and locked myself in my room, sighing as the door closed. I couldn't talk to Fang. I couldn't see him.

A light tap on my door made me jump.

"Come on, Max. We're gonna be late," I heard Iggy say.

"I'm walking," I said quietly, leaning against my door.

Iggy sighed. "Max, get out here. Seriously."

"Do you not speak English?" I snarled. "I'm walking."

I would've asked to use my dad's car, but that would require talking to my parents. My mom was already at work. There was no way in hell I was riding with Fang.

I couldn't believe what had happened with Fang. I felt incredibly guilty and equally embarrassed - and I wondered what Fang thought about it. It wasn't just that I had kissed him; I had liked it. I had wanted to do it again. I _still _wanted to do it again. And yet, no matter how many times I thought about that kiss, I kept thinking about Jason.

Iggy made an impatient noise and called loudly, "Max, get the hell over it. No one cares that you and Fang made out-"

I threw my door open and shoved Iggy so hard he collided with the wall behind him. His breath left him in a loud whoosh. I fisted the front of his shirt in my hand and hissed, "I am so tired of you being incessantly nosy in _my _business. The next time you think about trying to simplify my life, think again and butt out because _I don't need your shit_!"

I stormed past him, down the hall and down the stairs. I passed a silent Fang on my way to the door. I felt his eyes on me like a laser. He'd heard him, of course he had, and I just couldn't be around either of them.

"Fucking drama queen!" Iggy shouted. I heard him move down the stairs and unerringly through the kitchen until he was right behind me. "You spend your whole life creating petty drama that doesn't exist. You try to keep yourself depressed so that people have a reason to feel sorry for you! Guess what, Max? You've kissed practically every guy in our grade! Hell, you've screwed half of them! Kissing Fang _isn't _a big deal and you should just get over yourself already! Maybe kissing Fang means you're finally getting over Jason!"

I shoved my brother again, feeling the need to get my anger out physically instead of verbally. Iggy had it all wrong. It didn't mean I was over Jason; it meant the exact opposite. Now I was sticking my tongue down Jason's _twin brother's throat_? Didn't anyone see how terrible that made me? How horrible that was?

"You're such a jerk, Iggy! You don't know _anything_!"

Iggy looked disgusted that I would discredit his knowledge. He lifted his hands to his hair, tugging on it in frustration. There was a look in his eyes I'd never seen before. "I don't know anything? Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I don't see that you're a delusional screw-up who lives in the past so she doesn't have to face the fact that she's a careless _slut_!"

I gaped at him.

"James! How dare you say that to your sister!"

"_What_?" Iggy spun on our father who'd stepped into the room. Ig was practically spitting. "We all think it! Everybody in this town thinks it! I'm the only one brave enough to speak up! Everybody thinks if they say one thing wrong to her she'll slit her fucking wrists! Just because someone in her life died doesn't mean she can throw everything away and ruin her life _and _ours! We all lost someone, too, Max! Do you see _us _going into a downward spiral?"

It was all coming out at once. This wasn't just about riding with Fang to school or facing the fact that I'd kissed him anymore; this was much bigger. This was three years of pent-up anger and sadness suddenly coming out. And it hurt like _hell_. I didn't even think. I shoved him again - third time's a charm. He stumbled back and crashed into one of my mother's antique end tables in the foyer. He shattered a glass vase and sliced up his arm as he fell.

I glanced up, breathing heavily. My father stared at me with a mixture of worry and disappointment in his eyes.

Fang didn't even look at me. He didn't stand up for me, didn't say anything to me. He helped Iggy to his feet.

I shoved out of the house and ran down the driveway. When I reached the main road, I didn't stop running. When I reached school, I didn't stop running. When I reached the cemetery,

I

didn't

stop

running.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Go check out **_**desperatelyobvious**_**. Seriously, you won't regret it. Amazing shit right there. She's brilliant. **

_Said goodbye, turned around, and you were gone, gone, gone._

_- See You Again, Carrie Underwood_

MAX

It's amazing how slowly time drags by when you wish you were dead.

I stopped running only when I couldn't breathe anymore. I collapsed in the woods, shaking. My legs were burning from the workout - I'd run all the way across town in minutes. I didn't feel any better when I fell to my knees in the dirt four miles away from home. In fact, that was the first time that running didn't solve my anger or my frustration.

Because my brother's harsh words followed me.

Iggy was the one guy in the entire town that I knew would protect me and stick up for me and love me no matter what. He was my twin brother. He was there to calm me down when I had bad days, I was there to lead him through the darkness. We'd never said such horrible things to each other before. Ever. And all those things we'd just said…they were awful. He hadn't been joking, either. He'd been completely honest. Maybe that had been the first time he'd been honest with me in years.

Fang hadn't done anything. His silence hurt as much as Iggy's words had. It had almost felt like he'd been agreeing with everything my brother said. And if my brother and Fang hated me…then I was completely and utterly alone.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

I sighed, hearing Nudge's voice.

Maybe not completely and utterly alone.

"I'm not coming to school today," I said despondently. "Too much of a delusional slut to show my face."

Nudge sighed. "Max, don't let Dylan get to you, okay? He's a dick."

"Not Dylan," I said. "Ig brought me that wonderful reality check."

Nudge gasped. "Your brother? No way! He wouldn't say that!"

"Yeah, he would."

"Why?"

I sighed. "It's a long story."

Nudge huffed. "Good thing I'm walking out of school right now. Meet me at Lou's in five."

• • •

"You-"

"Shh!" I stopped her before she could repeat anything louder than a whisper. "This town is so big on gossip it isn't funny. Yes, I had a momentary lapse of judgment and kissed him."

"Was it good?" Nudge whispered intently.

I gave her a dry look.

Nudge shrugged, completely unabashed by her own blatancy. "Sorry, I've just always wondered."

"It was a mistake," I said, looking out the window.

"Why?" Nudge asked. "Did he push you off?" Then she gasped. "Did he wipe his mouth afterwards? I think that's, like, the worst thing that could've happened."

I stared at her seriously. "We were in the field, eating strawberries…I couldn't help it. I thought of Jay."

Nudge's eyebrows drew together. "But…you always think of Jason. I mean, in everything you do. That's normal. And, I mean, you were kissing a boy, of course you'd remember kissing that _first _boy…"

"I never thought of Jason when I was with Dylan. Dylan was a _distraction_. But kissing Fang was a reminder. He and Jay were so alike, I just…I couldn't help but think…what if I were with Jason instead…"

Nudge frowned.

"I know," I said in response to her troubled silence. "Ig was right."

"No! Max, don't say that," Nudge said softly. But she didn't follow up; it was like she wanted to convince me Iggy was wrong, but didn't know what to say to do it.

The owner of the diner came over to our table. Her name was Alice, and her grandfather, Lou, had opened the place decades ago.

"Hey, girls," she said, carrying a pitcher of iced tea. She set two glasses in front of us and filled them up, plopping two straws onto the middle of the table. "On the house."

"No, Alice-" I said, about to tell her we didn't need free drinks.

"Max," Alice said with a smile, "a little bit of Ma's homemade sweet tea can help with any kind of drama. Even boy drama."

I gaped after her. Then I turned to look at Nudge. I shoved my glass of tea away from me. "Does anyone mind their own business these days?"

"No way, babe," Nudge said, opening two packets of sugar and dumping them in her glass. "Alice is, like, thirty. Her life's boring now. She's got to eavesdrop on other people's conversations to keep herself young." Nudge looked over her shoulder and waved to Alice. Alice didn't wave back. Nudge smirked at me, stirring the drink with her straw. "See? She heard that, too, I bet."

I sighed. "Come to school," Nudge said, looking at me with wide, worried eyes. "We could still catch second period and just pass it off as being late. After the morning you've had, you really don't need detention for skipping."

I stared at her.

"Max. Must I compile a list of reasons why you should listen to me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I agreed, even though I had practically every class with Fang. I rode to school with Nudge and went through the day almost painlessly. I any contact with Fang or Iggy, and neither of them tried to approach me. Iggy's arm was wrapped up in gauze.

The day was fine - like, I didn't feel like blowing my brains out - until my last hour. Anatomy. It was the only class Fang, Iggy and I had together, and we shared a table. I got to the class first and sat in the far left seat at our assigned table. It was usually Iggy's spot, but there was no way I was going to suffer through sitting by both of them.

I knew that we were only watching a documentary that day, so I wasn't too worried about having to talk to either of them. But, just to be safe, I put in my earbuds and turned on my iPod before they even got to class.

Fang sat down, first. I don't know if it was because he wanted me and Ig to work it out or if it was because he didn't want to sit by me, but he sat in the far right seat. Which left the middle for Ig.

I rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes. Just one more class. I could do this.

Iggy walked into the room and made his way to our table in the very back. He reached out for my chair, since that's where he normally sat. When he felt my arm, he sighed and sat down in the seat to my right.

Get me out of here…

Just as the bell rang, Sam Gallagher ducked into the room, putting his stuff on the table in front of us. He sat in his chair and spun around, smiling at me.

"Hey, I didn't think you were here today," he said. "You weren't in Chem."

I sighed, glancing at him. "Sorry."

"I got the notes, if you want to copy."

"I think I'll manage without."

Sam nodded, looking a bit put off by my attitude. Oops. He brushed his hand back through his hair. "Hey, a bunch of us are getting together tomorrow. You wanna come?"

"No offense," I said, "but I'd rather rip off my own fingernails."

Sam grimaced. "Is everything okay?"

I looked him in the eyes, taking both my earbuds out. "After Tim's, you honestly think I want to hang out with you and a bunch of your _friends_?" I rolled my eyes. "Fuck off."

"What?" he said, his eyes wide.

"I said fuck off, Sam. The last thing I need today is your two-faced crap."

"Max-"

"Back off, Gallagher. It's obvious she doesn't want to talk to you so just shut up," Iggy said finally, his voice monotonous. I gritted my teeth.

Sam sighed, looking at my brother, and turned back to face the front of the class.

"You're welcome," Iggy muttered.

"Don't do me any favors," I mumbled. I glanced at his gauze wrapped arm. "Nice cast, mind if I sign?"

"Cute," Iggy hissed.

"The guys around seem to think so," I said nastily.

"Oh, don't remind me-"

"Will you two shut the fuck up already?" Fang said, leaning back in his seat as glaring behind Iggy's back at me. He didn't even bother to whisper. The class had been moderately quiet up until that point. Now, Mr. Bosley was staring, as was the rest of the class.

"Do we have a problem, Carter?"

Fang sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, we do."

Mr. Bosley was cool and all, but he hated interruptions. He sighed. "Can you three set it aside for the next fifty minutes?"

The three of us said nothing.

"Very well," he said, ripping three hall passes off his pad and setting them on his desk. "Go figure it out."

I scraped my chair away from the table and grabbed one of the hall passes, heading out of the room. I heard Fang and Iggy following me, as well as the rest of the class whispering. Finally, when the classroom door shut, Fang grabbed my arm and Iggy's arm and frowned at us.

"Figure your shit out, this is stupid."

I yanked my arm out of Fang's grip. "Would you mind your own business?"

"Me, mind my own business?" Fang said angrily.

"Yeah, Fang, not everything is about you!"

Iggy scoffed. "No, it's all about Jay, right?"

I spun on him. "I am so done with you, Iggy! Some people aren't as heartless and uncaring as you! _Some people _lose someone and they _hurt_!"

"Then there are the people who completely lose touch with all reality, right?" Iggy said pointedly.

"You don't understand!" I said finally. "Neither of you do! No one does!"

If they knew the weight I carried, if they knew what I'd done… It would be so, so different. Maybe they wouldn't think I was crazy for still being such a mess. Maybe they'd understand.

Iggy and Fang both stared at me, silent. I glanced behind Iggy to see students peeking through the window in the door. I couldn't take this. Not now. I turned away from both of them, my mind set on escaping. I saw the doors at the end of the hall and made a decision.

Fang grabbed my shoulder. "_Stop running away_."

I jerked away from him. I almost laughed. "Coming from you, those words mean nothing."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm so glad you guys are mad at Max. Um, that was totally the point. I am now so super psyched. I was afraid you'd think Iggy and Fang were being too harsh but I'm so glad most of you got it. **

**Anyways, hope you're still sticking with me. I got some incredible reviews from you guys, everyone analyzing Max and her feelings. Just remember: she is how she is for a reason. She's not making sense. She's kind of a mess. ON PURPOSE. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**Oh, and expect a new Trilogy Outtake tomorrow…**

_It's like carrying around the past in a hundred pound sack._

_- Let It Go, Tim McGraw_

MAX

This time, I knew where I was headed. I burst through the exit and down the stairs, booking straight across the parking lot and into the woods. I knew my way. I'd taken my time memorizing the forest that threaded through the town, and I knew the quickest way to my destination. Almost five minutes later, I was bursting into the Carter's home and barreling up the stairs.

It was there, at the end of the hall, where my resolve dissipated. I mechanically moved down the hallway, past Fang's bedroom and into Jason's.

The emptiness was eerie. If I closed my eyes, I could see the exact layout of his room, as it had been two years ago. His bed, haphazardly shoved against one wall, almost as if a last-minute decision; his dresser, always open and spewing clothes onto the floor; his desk, cluttered with papers and doodles and CDs. His closet had always been empty, because no matter how much his mom would beg him, he wouldn't hang up his clothes. His TV, constantly playing one of his favorite movies. The collage of pictures I'd began on the wall over his desk, cluttered with pictures of the four of us.

The room was vacant, now. Covered in dust and completely empty, it reminded me of something out of a horror movie. The only things in the room were a couple boxes and pieces of furniture. I grimaced at the way Jason's room had been turned into storage.

"I meant to move these into the attic," a voice said softly from behind me. I turned around to see Fang's mom in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carter, I-"

She shrugged. She didn't seem to question why I wasn't at school or why I was standing in her house. "When we moved, and packed up this room…there were a few things I couldn't bring myself to throw away."

She moved past me into the room and brought forward a box labeled _Max. _She lifted it easily and brought it over to me.

"You don't have to take it, sweetie," she said. "I know it's hard."

"No," I said breathlessly, feeling like a little piece of Jason was just what I needed. "I want it."

Mrs. Carter set the box in my arms. I felt like I was holding a piece of Jason. After saying goodbye to Fang's mom, I made my way through the woods to our house. My mother was home. Her book club was assembled on the back patio when I broke through the line of trees in our backyard. I could see wine glasses in each lady's hand. My mother glanced at her golden watch, her eyes confused.

"Max-"

"I skipped seventh period," I said, cradling the box in my arms as I stepped up onto the porch. My mother's mouth fell into a disbelieving O. "Sorry." Not sorry.

She looked like she was about to scold me, then thought twice about it. She glanced at her book club as I walked into the house and I heard her murmur, "Excuse her. She's been having a tough time ever since the Carters moved back to town."

I left my mother and her uptight friends in my dust. Passing through the kitchen, I grabbed a breakfast bar and stormed up the stairs. When I pushed into my room, I set the box down on my bed. I took a bite from my bar. I kicked out of my shoes, pulled off my hoodie and opened the flaps of the box and stared down at the contents. The first thing that caught my eye was a stack of white envelopes with a twine ribbon wrapped around them. I lifted it by the ribbon and the envelopes fell out of the tie. At least twenty of them fluttered to the ground. I groaned and stuck my breakfast bar into my mouth, getting down to pick them up.

They were all addressed to _me_. I noticed as I picked them up that they all said my name in a familiar, rushed script.

Curious, I set my granola bar on my bedside table and dropped the box on the floor, kicking it under my bed. Then I sat cross-legged on my mattress and picked up a random envelope. I had no idea what order they went it, so I decided to just go with it.

_Max,_

_California is a completely different world. I've never been anywhere but Hayden, duh, but God…I wish you could see California. _

_We're not on the beach, and we're not in a huge city like LA, but this place is definitely bigger than Hayden. About 20,000 people live in our town, and downtown twenty minutes away, the population is 458,021. I wrote down the number as we drove through the city toward our new house. Can you believe it? 458,021 people all in one place? Just think about it, Max - you've never even seen more than two hundred people in real life. And neither had I, until today. The city was alive with people. It was crazy being somewhere where I didn't know everyone's name. _

_The new house is small. Compared to the old four bedroom, three bath farmhouse, this place is a closet. The yard is nonexistent. I can see into both my neighbor's windows from my driveway. My room is nearly unpacked, since I've had a week to get settled in. I think it's taken me this long because I feel like if I finish unpacking the boxes…I don't know. It'll be real, then. _

_This is going to take some getting used to. _

_Mom has barely said a word since we left Hayden; Hayden's all she's ever known. Dad's trying to be as normal as possible, but the sad truth is…I don't think we're allowed to be normal anymore. I don't think we'll ever be normal again. _

_From the West coast, _

_Fang_

Letters? From Fang? From years ago? Why hadn't he ever sent these? Why were they in the box Fang's mom had given me? Did he put them there, knowing I'd get them? Did he want me to read these?

I dug through the pile again.

_Max, _

_Flying on a plane is not my idea of fun. I know you've never been on a plane, and so I'll just tell you that it's nothing to look forward to. It's shaky and unreliable and basically torture. Who really wants to spend hours on end cramped up with thirty other people thousands of feet up in the air? _

_Right. _

_I'm trying to sleep, but there's an old lady going through the motions of a panic attack to my right and a guy in his mid-thirties to my left who's going through cocktails like this is his last flight. Mom and Dad are a few rows back._

_Then again, the fact that I am leaving behind everything I've ever known makes it hard to doze off, too. _

_What are you doing right now, Max? Are you sitting in our tree house? Are you and Iggy playing tag in the woods? Are you lying in the field behind my old house, watching the clouds? _

_Or are you wondering why you didn't tell me goodbye this morning?_

_That's what I'm doing, here in this shitty, uncomfortable airplane seat. I can't remember the last time something happened that you couldn't tell me about. We are best friends. And now, when I needed you most…you couldn't even say goodbye? _

_When your family showed up this morning, Ig told me, "She's just taking it hard, Fang. Sorry." _

_We're all taking it hard, Max. We're all a fucking mess. _

_I knew where you were. Even though I ran to your house to find you, I knew you were at Jason's grave. And I also knew that you didn't want to see me. _

_So I didn't come after you, and now I'm wishing I did. _

_Fang_

So, this was probably the first letter. Fang had written me while he was on the plane. And he was right - I had been at Jason's grave when my family went to say goodbye to the Carters. Guilt settled around me like a blanket. I sighed and folded the letter back up and sticking it back into it's envelope. Then I grabbed another random one.

_Max, _

_Alyssa and I went into the city today. We were sitting in a pizza parlor downtown, eating pineapple and bacon pizza - better than it sounds - and I was people watching out the window. I saw a man on the side of the road, playing a guitar. _

"_Who's that?" I asked. _

_Alyssa shrugged. "Dunno. Never seen him before."_

_It's so weird. The world isn't just Hayden, Virginia anymore. It's so much bigger than that. Everyday I see strangers. I walk through school and don't know all the faces and all their histories. I'm not sure who is related to whom, who is married to whom. It's so different. _

_I have a completely new life here. Here, I'm not Jared, the kid who's brother died mysteriously two months ago. I'm Jared, the kid who just moved in down the street with his parents. _

_The only problem is… I'm not sure I like this new life. I'm pretty sure I'd give anything to be back in Hayden, with you and Iggy and Jason. All four of us, together, causing trouble, the way it's supposed to be. _

_But nothing's how it's supposed to be now. Jason's gone, you and Ig are across the country, and…_

_Alyssa's not you. _

_California's not Virginia. _

_Is anything ever going to feel right again? _

_Until next time, _

_Fang_

My first thought: Who the fuck is Alyssa? I threw the letter aside and ripped open another envelope.

_Max, _

_A girl named Alyssa welcomed us to the neighborhood today. She has short, light red hair, almost the shade of Iggy's. Almost blonde, but not quite. Her eyes were dark, dark green. She and her little brother, Will, brought us peanut butter cookies. _

_Mom, being the ever-hospitable host, pulled them both inside and insisted I gave them the tour. Will ran off and started talking to Dad, so I led Alyssa upstairs. _

"_So it's just you?" she mused, looking around my barely-put together room. "You're so lucky to be an only child." _

_I didn't say anything to her. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? __Actually, Alyssa, I used to have an identical twin brother. But he died a week ago and none of us know what happened. None of us except my best friend in the whole world who didn't even say goodbye when I left for the opposite side of the fucking country._

_Not a good way to make friends in a new town. Even if I'd tried to confide in Alyssa, she would've asked what happened to Jason. And I would've had to say I didn't know. _

_It hurts, Max. It really does. Because I realized that instead of telling people about my past, I was going to lie and say I was an only child. It was just me, Mom and Dad. And in the process, I was going to erase Jason. _

_You know what the hardest part is, though?_

_Not. Knowing. _

_Sometimes I wish you'd just call me and tell me what happened. I wish my phone would ring and I'd hear you say, "Fang, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. He was your brother. You deserve to know." _

_Because I do fucking deserve to know. How dare you keep that from me? He was my brother, Max. My twin brother. How would you feel if Iggy and I disappeared in the middle of the night, and then suddenly he was dead and I was the last person to see him alive? How would you feel if I __refused__ to tell you __anything__? _

_Am I ever going to know? _

_Are you ever going to tell me? _

_I wouldn't be mad, you know. I know it was an accident. I know it was probably Jason's fault. He was too ballsy for his own good. You have nothing to worry about, Max. It's not like anyone blames you for what happened. You couldn't've stopped him from jumping. That's just who Jay was. He took risks. _

_I wouldn't be mad. I wouldn't. I just want to __know__. _

_Fang_

I read that letter four times. I was numb when my fingers finally let go of the paper and it floated to the ground.

How could I have done that to him? I had no right to keep my secret for so long, no matter how much I didn't want people to know the truth. No matter what Fang felt towards me afterwards, _he deserved to know_.

I looked around at all the other unopened letters from him and made a decision in that second. I scooped them all up and shoved them into my desk, forgetting about them for the moment. Then I bent down and dug under my mattress until I found it; the journal Dr. Jackson had given me during our first session.

I'd only ever written one thing in that journal: the truth about Jason's death. I hadn't ever told anyone, but I had written everything I could remember about that night in the journal. No one knew about it, except Dr. Jackson. And he definitely had no idea what I'd written in it.

I pawed through my underwear drawer until I came across a tiny silver key. Then I went into my closet and reached up onto the top shelf, into an old pair of sneakers, where the second key was. There were two locks on the journal, to make sure that no one would ever, _ever _read it. Now I opened it, for the first time since I'd written in it. I flipped to the last page of my entry and at the bottom, I wrote,

_I'm sorry, Fang. You deserved to know. _

**A/N: Oh, no! Is Max going to tell Fang what happened? Is Fang going to hate Max? Is Max going to get her shit together? **

**Review. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I know I've been torturing you guys for quite a while, sooo here it is. A **_**slightly **_**longer chapter with a lot of plot. **

**Thank you so much for the reviews!**

_But if you never try, then you'll never know just what you're worth._

_- Fix You, Coldplay_

MAX

I knew Fang would come to my house with Iggy after school. He'd want to talk to me or yell at me or scold me or whatever, which gave me just enough time to drop my journal off and then head to Dr. Jackson's.

My entire body was shaking when I stepped into Fang's house. His mom was in the backyard, pulling weeds, and I didn't see Mr. Carter anywhere. I quickly and quietly made my way up to Fang's bedroom and before I could talk myself out of my idea, I set my journal and the two keys on his pillow.

I knew there would be no way I'd be able to tell him to his face. I wouldn't be able to do it. I had tried and I had chickened out. But at least this way, he'd know. He wouldn't have to wonder anymore. He would know exactly what happened that night on the cliff.

And if he hated me…well, then, I'd deal with that later.

I stood in his room for a second, staring at my journal on his bed. My confession, waiting to be read. I wondered what he would think after he knew the truth. I wondered if he'd ever talk to me again. I wondered if he'd tell his mom and dad what I'd done.

Before I could let myself chicken out again, I turned out of Fang's bedroom, closed the door, and stumbled down the stairs. My eyes were watering dangerously as I thought of Fang's reaction to the truth. I couldn't lose Fang. Fang was one of the only ones I had left.

The worst part was that all of this was my fault. If I'd just told Fang, like he'd wanted me too, I wouldn't be going through any of this now. Maybe he'd understand. Maybe I wouldn't hate myself so much. Maybe I wouldn't think I was the one to blame.

I wiped my eyes and burst out of the Carter's house, running down the long driveway. I had an appointment with Dr. Jackson, as usual for Monday. But it wasn't until four fifteen. I was sure it wasn't even past four yet. Oh well.

This time, I had to get there _now_.

Five minutes later, I burst into Dr. Jackson's office. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. He was sitting at his desk, reading some files or something. He looked up at me, startled.

"Ms. Ride, our appointment isn't for another twenty-"

"I killed my best friend," I choked out.

Ever since I gave Fang my journal, I couldn't stop the tears or the thoughts. I'd ran straight to Jackson's office without stopping or thinking and now that I was there, I couldn't do anything but sob as the confessions poured out of me. Dr. Jackson stood up and closed the door to his office. Then he turned to me and offered me a tissue box. I blew my nose.

"Who, Max?"

"Jason Carter."

Dr. Jackson seemed to realize that I hadn't just committed a homicide or anything; I was just talking about Jason. Dr. Jackson knew who Jason was. The only tragedy this town had ever seen. Of course he knew about it. But did anyone really know the _truth_? Anyone but me?

"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked calmly, motioning to the chair.

"About killing my best friend?" Why was he so calm?

"About why you think you are at fault."

I shakily sat down on the edge of the chair, my entire body pulsing with fear and adrenaline. The memories _physically hurt_. "It was the day after my birthday. Jason and I snuck out of our tent. The one we were sharing with our brothers. H-he said he couldn't sleep. That was my first mistake," I said thickly, swallowing. "I should have _made _him go to sleep."

Dr. Jackson was not holding his pad and pen. He was not wearing his reading glasses. He was not recording our session. He sat in front of me, in the opposite armchair, and listened to every word out of my mouth, nodding calmly.

"He wanted to go to the cliff," I choked. "T-the cliff we all used to dive off of and do tricks off of into the water. We'd all jumped off that stupid fucking cliff a million times."

I laughed at how stupid it was. It was _so _stupid.

"We were standing by the cliff. We shouldn't have b-been awake. We were supposed get up early the next morning to go on a float trip with our families. But Jason couldn't sleep. So we stood by the cliff."

Dr. Jackson said nothing.

"Jason said, 'Want to take a risk?' And I just s-stared at him. Then he said, 'Jump with me?'"

I shook my head as I told the story. It was playing in my head, like a horror movie, and the more I tried to _not _think about it, the more I thought about it. It was so perfectly clear in my head; _so disgustingly clear._

"That was my second mistake."

"What?"

"I should have gone with him," I whispered. My body started rocking nervously.

I could feel Dr. Jackson's gaze on me as he said, "Max, are you saying you wish you were dead?"

I looked up, staring into his curious eyes.

"Yes."

No one had ever directly asked me that question before. I wasn't even surprised of my own answer. Yes; I did. I hated myself. I had nothing left to live for. I didn't deserve it.

Dr. Jackson looked at me, his eyes pained. "Okay, Max. What next?"

"Jason told me the jump would be a leap of faith. He told me I had to go in first. I should have gone in f-first." I squeezed my eyes shut.

"But?"

"_Come here, Max." _

_I stepped over to Jason, wishing I'd pulled on a jacket. I could hear the rivers loud, constant churning. The water was dark black. I grabbed Jason's arm. He spun me around and I gripped him tighter, afraid I was going to fall. He pulled my back to his chest and took both my hands in his, resting his chin on my shoulder. _

"_Haven't you ever wanted to take a risk?" _

"_I'm dating you, aren't I?" I mumbled. Jason pressed his lips against the back of my neck. _

"_A bigger one," Jason breathed, stepping us closer to the edge of the cliff. _

"_Jason-"_

"_A leap of faith, Max," Jason said quietly. "Let's take it together."_

"_I can't," I whispered, staring down into the water. I'd jumped from this cliff thousands of times, but this time was different. I couldn't see very well in the dark._

"_Just hold onto me," Jason said, smiling against my hair. "Just don't let go."_

_I turned and put my hands on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into him. _

"_I dare you to jump with me," Jason murmured. _

_I looked up at him. "I dare you to go first." _

Another wave of tears wracked my body and bent forward, putting my head in my hands. I don't know why I said it. I shouldn't have ever said that. If I hadn't said it, if I had told him to come back to the tent with me, he would be alive. Jason couldn't say no to me. He'd never said no to me before. He would've followed me back to camp. He'd be there, with me, he wouldn't be dead.

"I _knew _he'd never back down from a dare. I knew, in the back of my mind, that the water level was low. Dad had told me at least t-twice not to jump in. But I told Jason to go first. I dared h-him."

Dr. Jackson let that sink in as we sat, facing each other. I still hadn't looked up.

"He made me promise I'd jump in, too. He told me he loved me and I told him he was an idiot."

Now the story was gushing out of me, and I couldn't stop it if I tried. My heart was racing in my chest, my hands clamming up. My face was glistening with tears.

"He jumped. His body didn't even make it all the way under water. I ran back for the camp, told the others I didn't know what happened. Watched as Fang's dad and my dad fished his limp body out of the water. He hit a rock, they said. The water level was down two feet. He snapped his neck on impact. I never told him I loved him. I never even jumped, like I promised. I just dared him to _kill himself_."

"Max-"

"I never told _anyone_."

My breath escaped me in a trembling sigh. I had nothing else to say. Everything finally came out all at once. I'd been meeting with Dr. Jackson for two years, and I'd never told him why I was there. Never told him about Jason's accident.

And now it was completely out in the open.

"Max, I can assure you, Jason's death was not your fault."

I looked up at him.

"Max, you knew Jason better than anyone. He was brave, he took risks, he liked doing dangerous, perilous things. The fact that you and Jason spoke about jumping before he did does not mean you forced him to do it."

"I put the thought in his mind," I said softly.

"Max, the thought was there before you were awake," Dr. Jackson said with a sad smile. "If Jason had an idea, he set his mind to it. No one could tell him no. You know that. I know you do."

I just put my head in my hands. So, Dr. Jackson's words were true. But it didn't help me feel much better. Still, as Jason's friend and girlfriend, I should've done what I could've to protect him and stop him from hurting himself. And I didn't.

Dr. Jackson stood up and walked over to me, sitting in the armchair next to mine. He rested his chin in his hand and said, "Max, do you know what that painting is called?"

He pointedly stared at the Picasso painting above his desk. I pulled in a long, hiccupping breath. "No?" I said helplessly.

"It's called Blue Nude," he said. "Painted in 1902. Picasso painted it after one of his closest friends died tragically, completely unexpected."

I wiped my eyes, staring at the painting. It was beautiful, in a heart-wrenching way. It made me want to cry. The painting was completely blue, just in varying shades. The angles and lines were sharp, dark, and rough; the shading was deep. It looked like it hurt Picasso to paint it. You could feel his pain.

"It's a woman, hugging her knees to her chest, facing away. Closed-off from everything else. She's trying to block out the grief," Dr. Jackson said. "But in the process of blocking out the grief, she's blocked out everything else, too."

I closed my eyes.

"This painting reminds me of you," he said. He turned to look at me. "Picasso created this masterpiece with more than just paints, Max. He used his feelings, too. Can't you tell?"

I could. It was in every brush stroke, every line and curve. His sadness, his nostalgia, his helplessness.

"What does the painting make you feel, Max?"

"Depression," I mumbled. "Love. Loneliness."

Dr. Jackson nodded. "Max, feeling makes you human. Feeling bad, feeling good, it comes and goes."

I chewed on my lip. "Mistakes make you human, too," he said quietly. "Lapses of judgment, acting impulsively. Saving Jason was not your job. Stopping him from jumping was not your job. That's the truth, Max."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted so, so badly to let go of all the pain.

Dr. Jackson smiled, suddenly, and stood up. "Max, I have homework for you."

I stared at him.

"I want you to remember something good. A memory that you think of and can't help but smile. If you don't have one, your homework for this week is to go make one."

A memory that made me smile?

Nearly impossible.

• • •

I left Dr. Jackson's office at six, after hours of self-exploration and depressing shit. As I stepped onto the sidewalk, a car sped by, not quite slow enough for me to jump in front of it. Too bad.

I would've rather gotten attacked by a bear than gone home that night. I knew that going home meant confronting Fang. I wondered if he would even want to speak to me ever again. Dr. Jackson's words had helped…but I didn't really care what Jack thought. I only wanted to know what Fang thought. The worst scenarios were running through my mind; Fang telling me he never wanted to talk to me again, Fang telling me that I should have saved his brother, Fang convincing his parents that I was to blame for Jason's death...

Yeah, I didn't want to go home and face that. Then I thought about what Fang had said to me earlier.

_Stop running away_.

I had run from this too long. I'd kept this secret in for two years and I just needed to go home and face it. Whatever happened, I deserved it. Whatever happened…I'd deal.

When I stepped into my house, it was dead quiet.

Not what I expected.

I walked into the living room to see my dad, reading on the sofa. I tentatively said, "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, looking up and setting his book down. "How was your day?"

I just stared at him in surprise. I had not seen that coming. I had been expecting more like, _How dare you murder Jason, consider yourself disowned. _

"I've seen better," I said. I walked past him and practically flew to my bedroom. I closed and locked my door.

There, I quickly changed into pajamas and crawled into bed. It was barely even dark outside, but I slid under the covers anyways, covering my face with my comforter. I imagined pressing my face into my pillow, harder and harder until there was nothing left for me to feel. Nothing left for me to think. Harder and harder until I wasn't breathing and I wasn't thinking and I wasn't feeling…

_I'm walking down the hill in the cemetery, heading for Jason's plot. I can see it from the top of the hill, but as I get closer, I notice someone's there. It's Fang. I reach the stone and step next to Fang. We stand side by side and look at it in silence. _

"_What's it like?" _

_I'm shocked. I turn to Fang and realize it isn't Fang at all - not anymore, at least. Now, it's fourteen year old Jason. He's just as he used to be, just as I remembered. His dark hair is shaggy, but not as much as Fang's. His eyes are focused on the stone that his name is engraved into. I'm still my seventeen-year-old self. _

"_What's it like, Max? To want it to be over?" _

_I look at him. I can't believe I'm here with him. I want to pull him to me, kiss him and hold him tight. "What?" I ask, dumbfounded. _

_He shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. "You wake up and you think of ways to end it. You think of throwing it all away. You _want _to throw it away. What does that feel like? To want to die?" _

_I sit down in the grass. Suddenly, there are no tombstones. Just a field of yellow sunflowers. Bright, huge yellow flowers in every direction. You can't see any other color but yellow. Jason sits in front of me, his eyes boring into mine. _

"_What is it like to hate being alive?" Jason whispers. He runs his fingers through the grass by his knees. _

"_What's it like being dead?" I choke out in response. _

_He smiles, like that is the funniest joke he's ever heard. I swallow. "Fang and Iggy worry about you," he said. "I worry about you, too." _

"_You can't worry about anything," I say softly. "You're dead. Hell, you didn't even worry about anything when you were alive."_

"_Trust me," he says. "I worry. You're so afraid of letting me down; so afraid of moving on. You want to die because you think it would be easier than embracing life without me. You want to die because I did."_

"_You didn't want to die," I whisper. "I'm so sorry-"_

_As if he doesn't even hear my apology, he moves on. "Don't throw your life away for me, Max. Don't push others away because of me. I love you. You're it for me. But…that's a different story for you. And that's okay. You just need to let go. You need to find something to _live _for."_

_I close my eyes. "Do you hate me?" _

_He says nothing. The wind whips up my hair, brings bumps up on my arms. I feel cold and alone. "Jason?"_

_I open my eyes. I'm back in the graveyard, sitting in front of his tombstone alone. _Jason Carter, beloved son_…_

"_Do you hate me, Jason?" I whisper. _

_But he won't answer. Can't. I close my eyes again and try to bring him back. Try to hear him again. _

"_It hurts so bad," I murmur, pressing my hand to the cold stone. "Waking up every morning and feeling like there's absolutely no reason to keep going. It's the worst pain I've ever felt. It's even worse because I know that you wouldn't have thrown your life away for anything. You were so alive, so ready to embrace life…and all I want is to end it. It's horrible. I feel like there's no going back. I don't know what to do…I just…"_

"_Max."_

"_Jason?" I open my eyes again, holding my breath, looking around for him. I see no one. _

"_Max, wake up." _

I jolted awake, gasping. I opened my eyes to see Fang leaning over me, his eyes watching my face. When he saw I was awake, he said, "Come on, get up."

A million things sped through my mind in that moment. Had he read my journal? Did he know? Did he hate me?

Why was he waking me up at one in the fucking morning?

"Fang-"

He threw an empty backpack at me. "Pack clothes. Stuff you need. I'll be outside."

Stuff I need?

I got up slowly from my mattress. My dream was playing in my head, making my mind wander. As I started throwing clothes into the backpack, I saw the box Fang's mom had given me under my bed.

I zipped the backpack up. Then, at the last minute, I grabbed the box and hefted it up into my arms. I closed my bedroom door and made my way downstairs as quietly as possible. I was about to leave the house when I paused, looking back. My dad's wallet was on the counter, next to his car keys. I walked over to his leather wallet and flipped it open, pulling out one of his platinum credit cards. Couldn't hurt, right? He had, like, ten of 'em. He wouldn't even miss it.

Then again…credit cards could be tracked. I slid the card back into his wallet and instead walked into the living room. There was a small, decorative vase in there that my mom always used to hide emergency cash. She'd put fifty bucks in there each payday. I tipped the jar, pulled out a couple hundred dollars and stuffed about three hundred back in.

Outside in the driveway, Fang's jeep was running. The top was still off. It was freezing. I was in black shorts and a hoodie. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked to the driver's side of Fang's jeep. He nodded toward the passenger seat wordlessly and I felt my heart sink.

"Where are we going?" I asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Fang noticed the box in my hands; by the look in his eyes, he recognized it all too well. He glanced away from me, his jaw tight, the look in his eyes a million miles away.

"Get in, Max, before I change my mind," Fang said gruffly. He lifted a thermos that I assumed had coffee in it. Fang and his habit of drinking coffee religiously, everyone. He took a long drink and then set it in the cup holder. "New York won't wait forever."

**A/N: REVIEW.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I had the WORST day yesterday. It's now three in the morning, and I should be sleeping but my head is pounding and I can't sleep. **

**I know I promised a Trilogy Outtake chapter but I accidentally deleted it in a tussle with my hard drive and now all I can do is rewrite it. Sorry about that. **

**But, uh, here's the next chapter. **

**Thanks for the reviews. Seriously, it was the only good thing about yesterday. **

_I'm a walking travesty, but I'm smiling and everything._

_-Therapy, All Time Low_

MAX

Fang didn't say another word, and even though I had a choice, I felt like I didn't. I went around his Jeep and yanked open the door. After I shoved the box and backpack into the backseat, I closed the door and Fang pulled out of my driveway. I didn't even look back.

New York. We were really going. I had so many questions to ask him, but the way he was treating me made me think twice about speaking. I stared in the opposite direction, watching the town go by as we drove. Everything looked empty, dead. It was the middle of the night.

I was completely silent for five minutes - that was how long it took us to get to the _Welcome to Hayden, Virginia: Population 204 _sign. I'd _never _been past that sign.

Until now.

Fang drove past it without even a glance. For me, though, it was different. All I'd ever known was Hayden, for as long as I'd been alive. Now I'd finally left; I'd finally _done it_. I had dreamed about this forever, and Fang…

I looked over at him.

"Will you say something?"

"I can't," Fang said.

"Why not?"

Fang took in a slow breath and let it out through his nose. He reached forward and turned on the radio. A distraction; a wall. He didn't want to talk to me. I leaned back in my seat and tried to decide if the agonizing pain in my stomach was the feeling of losing my best friend. I tried not to think about what he probably felt toward me right now, what he probably thought about me. I wondered if this was a good idea. I had no idea what to think. All I knew was that Fang and I were leaving Hayden, going to New York. Apparently, on an impulse he'd had in the middle of the night.

And he hadn't spoken since I'd gotten in the Jeep.

"Do you hate me now?" I asked. Because I _had to know_.

"Shut up, Max," Fang said. "Please. Go to sleep. Or something. I can't talk to you right now."

I gnawed on my bottom lip. "That's not fair," I said finally. "If you hate me, fine, but don't make me go on this stupid trip with you-"

"I'm not making you do anything!" Fang snapped. Then he stopped himself, controlling his reaction. It killed me to watch him shut down his real feelings like that, only because I knew he was secretly furious. He glanced over at me. "I don't hate you. Just…let me think."

I just shrugged, trying to brush off how awful it felt. Thinking about Fang hating me was a lot easier than actually experiencing it. I didn't know how I'd ever keep myself going if Fang didn't even want me around.

What else was there left in the world but Fang?

I could feel our friendship, our connection - basically all I'd ever known - crumbling. I wanted to cry. Instead, I kicked back the seat and closed my eyes.

I wanted to dream.

I wanted to dream about Jason again.

• • •

Six hours later, Fang woke me up. The Jeep was parked in a small parking lot off a pier. I could hear seagulls and the yells of fisherman going off to work. It was about seven am. Fang opened the passenger door and shook my shoulder. He reached over me and grabbed his backpack, slinging it onto his shoulder.

"Come on, Max."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Where are we?"

"Hammond, New Jersey," Fang said, stepping backwards as I jumped down out of the vehicle. "We're getting breakfast."

"Do I need-" I started, motioning to my stuff, but Fang shook his head. I closed the Jeep and we walked up the pier. There were small stores and boutiques. A few seafood restaurants and cafés were scattered here and there, too. The end of the pier jutted out into the ocean and connected with the dock that homed almost ten fishing boats. My eyes hungrily ate up the new surroundings.

"In here," Fang said decisively, grabbing my wrist. We went into a café and slid into a small booth by the door. A teenager with her hair haphazardly thrown up from her face came over to us and took our orders. After she walked away, I started reading all of the different jam and jelly packets on our table. I could feel Fang's eyes on me.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Fang move and unzip his backpack. I started to look through the special's menu displayed on our table when Fang slid something small onto the table in front of me.

My journal.

I froze, my entire body going cold. My eyes flickered up to his face, trying desperately to read him. It was impossible. He was staring right back at me, his eyes telling me nothing.

"I'm going to tell you something, Max," Fang said finally. I sat, still in my seat, my body begging me to get up and run down the pier. I felt like Fang and I were the only two people in the whole café; in the whole world. I felt like this conversation, what he would say next, would change our lives forever.

Fang paused as the waitress brought us our drinks. When she disappeared again, he said, "In California, I had a girlfriend. Her name was Alyssa."

I tried to focus on my breathing, but instead I started to hang on his words. So he and Alyssa had been a couple.

"She got pregnant Sophomore year."

I had to force myself not to let my jaw drop open in shock. The first feeling that registered was betrayal, which was so, so stupid for a million different reasons. So many questions were spinning around in my head, bouncing off my skull. I felt my temples throb. I felt sick.

Why was he telling me this?

Why was it hurting me to listen?

"She wasn't going to tell me about it," Fang said. "I mean, obviously I would've found out, but…she tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible." He took a drink of coffee. "She was almost three months when she lost the baby."

I curled my fingers into fists, my nails digging into the fabric of the booth. Now, so many emotions and reactions were coming at me from all different sides. I tried to sit still and just _listen _to him. He was finally talking to me, and hey, that was something, right?

"I beat myself up about that for months," Fang admitted. Obviously, any person with a heart would. That would be really scarring for anyone, really emotionally tolling. I watched Fang as he worked through the next sentence in his head. "It wasn't even mine."

"She cheated on you?" I asked.

Fang finished his coffee.

"She let you believe that…" I trailed off. "She let you think…for months…God, you probably hated yourself thinking it was your fault…"

Fang just stared at me, and it hit me like a truck. I wish. Getting hit by a truck would've been a lot easier.

"It's easy to blame yourself for something that isn't even your fault," Fang said.

I shook my head. "It isn't the same."

"Yes, it is," Fang said immediately.

I sat back. The waitress brought me my pancakes and Fang's omelet and asked us if we wanted anything else. We both shook our heads no. When she was gone, I picked up my fork and started cutting into my pancakes.

"So, are you mad at me?"

"Yes," Fang said.

My stomach dropped.

"I'm mad that you blame yourself for everything. I'm mad that you're too thick to even entertain the possibility that none of it is your fault."

I lifted a bite of pancake to my mouth and found my throat so dry that I could barely swallow. I chased the pancake down with orange juice. I stared at the journal on the table, letting my mind go over everything we'd just talked about.

We finished our food in silence.

When we both were done, Fang threw money onto the table and said, "Come on."

He swung his backpack onto his shoulder and walked out. I trailed behind him. When I caught up with him outside, he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me down the pier. We stopped and faced the ocean. Fang dropped his backpack and dug his hand into his pocket.

He pulled out the two keys to my journal.

He looked at me. "You're wrong, Max. I know you know that. Deep down. You didn't do anything wrong." He looked out over the ocean. I felt so incredibly small next to the ocean, next to Fang. How did he do that to me?

He brought my hand up and curled my fist around one of the keys. Then he reached back and threw his as far as he could. I didn't even see where it landed.

"You're turn."

I turned the key over and over in my hand. I knew why he was doing this. He was telling me that I didn't ever have to tell anyone about the night Jason died if I didn't want to. He was saying that it wasn't my fault, and I shouldn't blame myself. That I should just let it go.

So I lifted my hand, held it out over the churning waves below, and I let it go.

Fang tugged on my arm, pulling me to stand in front of him. My back pressed against the metal railing. Before I could even register what was happening, he smashed his mouth to mine. His lips were soft and warm, moving against mine. My fingers slipped up his neck, up into his hair on their own accord. There were no words for how I felt in that moment. Fang held me tightly against his body, kissed me like he meant it, like he was speaking volumes with his mouth on mine. My senses succumbed to him, my body responded to him almost desperately, and I felt alive.

And then I realized what I was doing.

I pulled my mouth away and tried to get out of his embrace; the embrace that, seconds ago, had made me feel incredible. Now I felt sick.

When Fang didn't let go, I resorted to turning my head away from him.

"Why are you afraid of this?" Fang whispered.

"Why do you want it?" I responded, forcing myself to look at him. The question I was really asking was, _Why do you want me? _

"I don't think you realize what you did when you kissed me on my birthday," Fang said quietly. His face was close to mine, his breath on my lips. The look in his eyes scared me to death. "You demolished our friendship. There is _nothing _left for us as friends. Not after what you did."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of pain. So this was it? He didn't want to be my friend anymore?

"We can't be friends…because friends don't do the kind of things I want to do with you."

I sucked in a breath, surprised at how much that sentence affected me. "Fang, I can't-"

He grabbed my wrists, pressing his body into mine _everywhere _to keep me against the railing. "I know you think we can't do this. I know you think that we'd be betraying Jason." He ran his fingers up my wrist where the scars were. "But Max, _this _won't bring Jason back. Hating yourself won't bring him back. Pushing me away _won't bring him back_. He's gone."

"I _know _that," I whispered harshly. I wasn't stupid.

"Wherever he is," Fang continued, "I can promise you he doesn't hate you. The only thing Jason could want is for us to be happy."

I thought about my dream. About Jason's words.

_Don't throw your life away for me, Max. Don't push others away because of me. I love you. You're it for me. But…that's a different story for you. And that's okay_. _You need to find something to _live _for. _

I felt like a million weights had been pulled off my shoulders. The icy self-hatred in my chest melted. Somehow, Fang was helping me heal, helping me come to terms with everything that had happened these past three years…

Fang was doing a whole lot for me today.

"I don't want to forget him," I said softly. "I don't want you to think I'm replacing him with you… I don't…want this to ruin everything."

Fang brushed my hair back. "Who could forget Jason? That's impossible. And as for you not wanting to ruin everything…I know just how to avoid that."

"How?"

Fang leaned forward, his lips grazing mine, and breathed into my mouth, "Come here."

So I thought over everything he said.

And I thought about my dream, about Jason's words.

And I went to him.

And I kissed him.

• • •

"Tim Rogan."

Fang raised his eyebrows. "Did _not _see that coming."

I rolled my eyes. Fang and I had walked the boardwalk and ventured into stores all day. Finally, we'd bought a bag of assorted jelly beans and gone to the beach, guessing each flavor. If we guessed it wrong, we had to answer a question.

I should've known that jelly bean was buttered popcorn.

"I didn't know you dated Tim," Fang said.

"I didn't," I responded. "You know how in the movies, the two friends sleep together to get their first time over with then end up falling in love?" I smirked. "It was like that, except Tim and I didn't fall in love."

Fang smiled and I dug through the container for a jelly bean. Finally I found one and made him eat it.

"Java," Fang guessed easily. I frowned, shoving the container at him.

It had been so much easier to let go today. I don't know why it was so much easier to be with Fang now. Maybe because in Hayden, everywhere we went was a reminder of Jason. Now, hundreds of miles from Hayden, Fang and I could experience something that was just for us. It was really refreshing.

I closed my mind and Fang pushed another jelly bean into my mouth. I chewed slowly.

"Uh," I tried to think of it. "Strawberry something?"

Fang shook his head, grinning. "Mango."

"Fine," I grumbled. "Hit me."

Fang thought for a second. "What are your plans after graduation?"

I ripped my fingers through my hair, pulling it up behind me. "Assuming I graduate?"

Fang smirked.

"Move," I said shortly. "Definitely."

"Move from Hayden," Fang said, "or move from Virginia?"

I shrugged. "As far as I need to go," I whispered. Fang's eyes glinted as we looked at each other. I cleared my throat. "One question per wrong guess, mister."

Then I grabbed another jelly bean and gave it to him, watching him contemplate as he decipher the flavor.

"Strawberry shortcake?"

"Ha!" I looked at him, a smug grin plastered on my face. "Strawberry _cheesecake_. Nice try." I stared at him, already knowing what I wanted to ask.

Fang waited.

"What are _your _plans for after graduation?"

Graduation was in four months. The clock was ticking. I already knew what I wanted to do after high school. I needed to get away, go somewhere I'd never been, discover things I'd never known about. I could feel it in my bones, that was what I needed to do.

"I applied to a few colleges," Fang said nonchalantly.

I felt surprised, but I shouldn't have. Fang was smart, he had his life together. He was going to go to school and get a degree and get a good job. I had never once doubted it in my mind that Fang was going to make a name for himself.

But why, then, did my heart plummet to my feet at his answer?

Why did I feel like he was leaving me?

Why did I feel like he was already gone?

**A/N: Why? Whhhhhy? Review. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: We have over 300 reviews, by the way. I know. I can barely believe it, too. You guys are sooooooo cool.**

_If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? _

_- Clarity, Zedd_

MAX

"My dad's calling me again," I whispered. Fang and I had put the ragtop back on his Jeep and gotten on the road around seven. Tonight, we were going to stop somewhere in northern New Jersey, at a hotel or something. Then we'd get to New York tomorrow, on Wednesday.

I hit Ignore. That was the sixth call I'd rejected.

"They're probably worried as hell," Fang said. I knew he was thinking about his parents, too. I knew it must've taken a lot for him to just up and leave like that, without so much as a note. Fang's family was close, always had been, and after watching his parents lose Jason I couldn't imagine their state of panic.

For me, it'd been different. I hadn't spent most of the ride to New Jersey worrying about how my disappearance would affect my family. Instead, I'd been worrying about Fang hating my guts. Then, while he'd probably beat himself up all day for torturing his parents, I'd let go of everything and enjoyed myself. I hadn't thought of my family once.

"Maybe I should call Iggy," I said reluctantly. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew it'd make Fang feel better. "Let him know we're okay. That way we don't have to talk to our parents."

Fang seemed to mull that over for a second. "Yeah," he said finally. "Maybe. Just tell him we had something we needed to do and we'll be home Saturday."

Saturday. Fang and I were going to be on our little adventure in New York City for five days. I felt a foreign feeling seep into my body as I pulled out my phone, trying not to think of all the things we could manage in five days.

Ig answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Get in a room by yourself," I said softly.

I could almost feel my brother's surprise. I heard him make up some excuse to my parents, saying it was just a friend from school. I heard Fang's mom let out a strangled noise as Iggy shot down her hope of it being Fang. I chewed on my lip.

I heard a door close and then Iggy hissed, "Where the hell are you too? Yesterday you can't even be around each other and now you've ditched town together?"

"I-"

"I believe you would do that, but Fang? Really? God, how could you drag him into this with you-"

I made an impatient sound. "I didn't drag him anywhere!"

Iggy sighed. "Where are you, Max?"

"Fang and I had something we needed to do," I said, quoting what Fang had told me. "We'll be home on Saturday."

"_Saturday_?" Iggy hissed incredulously. "How the hell am I supposed to hold them off until Saturday? Supposing you don't want me to tell them you called-"

"No, don't tell them. I'll call later and leave a message, once everyone's asleep," I said. I glanced at Fang. "Didn't you say you needed to get gas? Get off here." I pointed to the off-ramp. Fang quickly put on his blinker and got over, exiting the highway.

"Where _are _you?" Iggy demanded.

"I - can't tell you," I sighed. I glanced at Fang. "I'm sorry. I'll call later, Ig."

"Max-"

I hung up. I groaned, leaning my head back against the seat. "He's going to rat me out."

"No, he won't," Fang said. "He'll keep it quiet."

"He's never covered for me, ever. Why would he start _now_?"

"Because I'm here," Fang said, as if it were the obvious answer. "If he rats you out, he'd also be ratting _me _out."

I rolled my eyes and tried to let Fang's faulty logic dismiss my worry. Iggy would cut me a break. He had to. Just this once.

Fang and I found a gas station and he filled the tank then went inside to pay. I sat up and tried to pull my hair back in a ponytail. It was knotty and difficult, but finally I managed to pull it away from my face. I reclined my chair, yawning.

Fang came out a second later, sliding into the driver's seat.

"You can sleep," Fang said, turning the radio up a bit. "I'll wake you when we get there."

"Where exactly," I yawned, turning my head to face him, "is _there_?"

"Let's just say, we aren't sleeping in the Jeep tonight."

"Hm," I sighed. "I can live with that."

• • •

"Sleeping in the Jeep would've been better," I muttered. Fang rolled his eyes, looking around the cheap motel room we'd gotten for the night. I threw my backpack into a chair in the corner and turned on the lamp by my bed.

"There are, like, ten stains on this bed," I said in disgust. Fang gave me a look. "Just looking at it makes me want a shower."

Fang opened the door to the bathroom. "It looks decent," he said, his voice full of anything but enthusiasm. I frowned and edged closer to the bathroom door, peeking in.

"I'm taking a shower," I said, stepping lightly into the bathroom. Fang nodded. "I'll order some pizza."

Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the shower and got dressed, pulling my wet hair up in a ponytail. I still had to call my parents…but, I was going to push that off as long as possible.

When I went out into the room, Fang had the TV on and the volume turned up almost all the way. He wasn't watching it, though. Instead, he was eating a slice of pizza and digging through the box his mom had given me.

"What's up with the TV?" I asked, sitting next to him on his bed.

"The couple next door," Fang said, as if that were enough explanation. I made a face at him.

"Told you the Jeep would've been better."

Fang grinned. Then he tapped the box with his finger as he took another bite of pizza. "Hope you don't mind."

I shook my head in silence and sat down next to him. I reached over his lap, grabbed a piece of supreme pizza from the box and asked, "Want the mushrooms?"

Fang picked the three mushrooms off my slice before wiping his hands on his jeans and picking up a picture. I choked down a laugh. It was a picture taken of all four of us, two months before freshman year ended. They were all grinning; my smile, however, was forced. I was squashed in the middle and my face was more annoyed than happy.

"Jason tried to pressure me into having sex," I said frankly, taking a large bite out of my pizza.

Fang looked at me. "_Why _is that the first thing you think of when you see this picture?"

"Because it was that same night," I said, taking the picture from him. "We were in the tree house. He wanted to, but I chickened out."

_We'd built the tree house ourselves. It wasn't huge, but the fact that we'd managed to build a safe tree house that we could all be in without falling to our deaths was a feat in itself. _

_The ceiling was strung with multicolored light bulbs, casting red and green and blue on all the walls. There was a twin mattress shoved in the corner, covered with quilts and throw pillows stolen from our mothers' couches._

_It was almost eight. I climbed the tree house ladder and Jason was right behind me. I was carrying a bag of M&Ms and Jason had two sodas in his hoodie. I slipped through the latch and Jason dropped it closed behind us. _

_I flopped onto my back on the mattress. I took one of the throw pillows and shoved it under my head. Then, as Jason settled by my feet, I ripped open the bag of M&Ms. _

_I held up an M&M as Jason opened a soda. "Catch."_

_Jason opened his mouth and I tossed it. He caught it and smirked at me. We started throwing them to each other, catching them in our mouths. I lifted another and threw it at him, hitting him in the eye. He howled. _

"_Ow, Max!" _

_He threw one at me and it went down my shirt. I laughed, reaching to find it. Jason's fingers wrapped around both my ankles and pulled me down the mattress toward him, his eyes blazing. _

"_I'll get it."_

_His lips descended on mine before I could even take a breath, and he hoisted me up so I was in his lap. His lips tasted like chocolate. _

_He pushed his hands down my sides and lifted my t-shirt, tossing it across the tree house. His eyes glanced down and he smirked. _

"_Is it my birthday?" he teased. I tried to resist the heat creeping up my cheeks. I usually only ever worse sports bras. My mother had looked at me like I was crazy when I told her I wanted to buy an actual bra. "Who are you, and where did you put Max?" he tightened his hold on me. "Not that I mind." _

"_I will punch you," I whispered. _

"_There she is." Jason swooped in and kissed me again, his fingers tangling in my hair. His other hand held the small of my back and pulled me against him. _

"_Jason," I murmured, pushing him back a bit. _

"_I love you, Max," he said, smirking at me. His smirk expanded into a full-blown smile, his white teeth looking a million times brighter in the darkness. "I really do."_

_I blushed. "Whatever." _

_Jason pulled back, his eyebrows drawn together. "That hurt, Max. I'm offended."_

"_You don't love me," I whispered._

"_You don't sound so sure," Jason responded, raising his eyebrows at me. _

_Something swelled inside me. I reached up and grabbed Jason's face with both hands, pulling his mouth to mine. His hands gripped my hips, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with me. _

"_We shouldn't do this," I said finally. _

"_We definitely should." _

"_Jason." _

"_Max."_

"_Jay, look at where we are," I panted, sitting back. "We're in a tree house."_

"_So?" Jason's hands fell from my hips and he looked at me. _

"_It isn't…special," I said. I wrapped my arms around myself; even though Jason had seen me like this a hundred times, it felt different now. _

"_It doesn't matter where we are," Jason said, his carefree smile plastered on his face. "As long as we love each other." _

_He stared at me. I could feel his eyes on me even after I glanced away from him. _

_Suddenly, his arms wrapped around me and pulled me until I was leaning on his chest. He laughed, as if this wasn't a huge, serious conversation. "But you don't know if you love me yet."_

_I buried my face in his chest, feeling humiliated. Here he was, telling me he loved me and wanted me, and I couldn't even look him in the eye. _

"_It's not…that," I tried, but Jason knew better. _

_I chewed on my lip. Then I tried again. "Anyone could come up here at any time, and I just…"_

"_Max, chill," Jason said. "It's not a big deal."_

_It was a big deal!_

"_She's right, you know," I heard from behind me. "It's best you don't. Anyone could come up here at any time."_

_I spun around to see Fang, smirking, poking his head up through the trapdoor. _

"_Fang!" I shouted, furious. And embarrassed. "Get _out_!" _

"_Sure, no problem. Hey, Ig - catch!" Fang swiped my shirt off the wooden floor and dropped it through the hatch, following immediately and letting the door drop closed. _

"That was also the night I snuck up the trapdoor and stole your shirt while you two were making out," Fang said.

I laughed. "I had to wear Jason's sweatshirt home because you wouldn't tell me where you'd put it. I was so mad."

"And as you tried to run inside, my mom insisted she take a picture of us," Fang said, pointing at me in the photograph. I was wearing a huge grey hoodie, my face flushed with embarrassment.

I reached into the box again and pulled out a stack of DVDs. "Jay's movie collection," I said quietly.

"Part of it," Fang said, grabbing another slice of pizza. "You know it wouldn't have all fit in one box."

"He was a movie junkie," I said. "It's depressing how much time we spent watching these over and over again."

Fang smirked. "_Without a Paddle _was his favorite," he said, pulling it out of the box.

"He could quote the whole thing," I laughed. I reached into the box again and found more pictures. There were simple ones of us on vacation - the only place we _ever _went on vacation, Lewis Creek Camping Grounds. We went there at least twice every summer. There were plenty of pictures of us all in our bathing suits, from four-years-old to fourteen. More pictures included one of Jason and I sitting up in one of the trees in my backyard, our feet hanging down. And there was one of us listening to his iPod curled up on the couch.

"God, it's so weird looking at these," I whispered.

Fang said nothing. The next thing he pulled out was a tin cigar box. Inside were almost a hundred slips of paper, all with message on them.

"He kept every fortune from his fortune cookies," I laughed, reaching in and grabbing one. " 'Today, a friend will bring you great comfort.' "

Fang smirked, grabbing one, too. " 'You will soon make an important decision.' I can't believe he kept all of these."

"I can't believe how often we ate take out," I said. Fang rolled his eyes.

"What's this?" I asked curiously, pulling a notebook out of the box.

Fang's eyes widened. He snatched the book from my hands. "Not for your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"They're our…dirty poems."

I snorted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Give it to me."

"No," Fang said, holding the book away from me.

"Fang," I said. "Give it to me."

"We were never going to show you these," Fang insisted. "Iggy, Jason and I promised."

"Oh, my God, I'm not an angel, I think I can handle fourteen-year-old boy humor."

Fang looked at me, unsure. I ripped the notebook out of his hands and read the first poem.

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue, _

_C'mon baby, drop your shorts_

_And we'll screw _

_By: Iggy_

I started giggling and Fang tried to rip the notebook from my hands. "This is precious."

I started to read the next one out loud. "Oh, this one's written by Fang! '_Max's breasts, are the best - _Oh, my God. I can't even finish," I cackled. Fang finally got the book from me.

"I wrote that to piss Jason off," Fang said.

"Right," I said, rolling my eyes.

Fang shook his head, smiling. "Here's the best one. Jason wrote it. _'I like cherries, I like grapes, tell me baby, does the carpet match the drapes?' "_

"Fang!" I gasped through my laughter. "Your brother was a man of many talents."

"Dirty poetry being one," Fang said. He smiled at me, a real smile, and watched my laughter reduce me to breathlessness. I flopped back on the bed and sighed.

He laid down on his side next to me, propping his head up with one hand. "This is the first time I've seen you laugh in days."

I rolled over to face him, propping myself up and mirroring his position. "This is the first time I've had something to laugh about in years."

Fang rolled off the bed. I sat up and started putting all the things we'd pulled out of the box back. Fang grabbed _Without a Paddle _and held it up.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I smiled. "Put it in."

Fang walked towards the TV and quickly figured out how to play the movie. He came over to his bed, the bed I was sitting on, and sat next to me. We fell asleep watching one of the greatest movies of all time - in Jason's opinion, of course.

I woke up as the credits were rolling. Fang had turned the lights off before we'd fallen asleep, so I sat up and fumbled for the lamp. I got up and turned the TV off. Then I grabbed my cell phone and dialed home. It was almost one.

I waited in suspense, hoping they weren't staying up extra late to hear from Fang and I. Thankfully, it sent me to voicemail.

I cleared my throat. "Hey Mom, Dad…Just wanted to call and tell you that Fang and I are okay. I mean, just in case you were worried or something…" The idea of my parents worrying about me was insane, but they had been calling me all day… "We'll be home on Saturday."

I glanced at Fang. "It's not Fang's fault. I…I forced him to come with me. There was just…something I needed to do. Don't worry about us. We'll be home soon."

**A/N: Aw, Max took all the blame? Review. **


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This chapter's a bit short. Sooooooorry. **

**Btw, you guys are really cool. If you didn't hear me the first billion times. Thanks for the reviews!**

_Take me away to better days. _

_-Pocket Full of Sunshine, Natasha Beddingfield_

MAX

I dropped my backpack on the ground and clutched my box to my chest, slowly walking further into the room.

Excuse me, _palace_.

"I can't believe you got us a hotel room here," I said in awe, looking around the room. There were two huge beds, each with a million pillows. The room was decorated in dark blues and greens. There was a huge flat screen TV and a mini-fridge and coffee maker. Fang flung his backpack onto one of the beds and smirked, looking around the room. It was easily a five hundred, six hundred dollar bill per night. If you didn't, you know, turn on the lights or flush the toilet. "How did you get the money?"

"It's called a college fund," Fang said. I widened my eyes at him and he shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if his parents hadn't been putting money in there since he was born. Now, instead of saving up for a higher education, he was throwing that money away to give me an escape from Hayden. I had mixed feelings about that. Especially because Fang actually planned on attending college.

I fished the three hundred dollars out of my pocket and threw it onto the bed that he'd claimed as his.

"It's called the evil mother's secret stash," I said, grinning. "Much more accessible."

I turned and walked toward the balcony. I pulled open the heavy, navy blue curtains and stared down in wonder at the nightlife of the city. It was almost eight pm and the streets were more alive than ever. There were so many people…

"Fang, this is…"

"I know."

He was much closer than I'd realized. He spun me around and stared into my eyes, his face much more open than I'd ever seen it.

"How long do you think we'll be under house arrest when we get back?" he mused.

"At least until we're thirty," I breathed. "But, hey…we could always just…never go back."

Fang raised an eyebrow. "Interesting idea."

I cleared my throat. "So," I said, stepping around him. "What's the agenda?"

Fang walked over to the dresser and grabbed a mint from the decorative glass bowl on it. He ripped open the wrapped and popped it into his mouth.

"Explore the city tomorrow," he said. "Get lost."

That sounded perfect to me. I'd never been anywhere I didn't know like the back of my hand, so getting lost seemed like the best adventure I'd ever heard of. I could only imagine all the things in the city that Fang and I would see tomorrow.

We'd spent all day driving; not because it was a day-long trip, but because we stopped anytime a sign caught our attention. We were soaking up the tourist life. Our phones had been going off all day, and by the time we'd finally gotten to the hotel - around nine at night - I'd taken his phone and mine and turned them off, throwing them in the drawer by my bed. Cutting us off from the rest of our lives and focusing on _this_.

He sat down on his bed, opening the hotel pamphlet. "You know, for a five-star hotel, they have disgusting room service selections."

"Want to go get something?" I asked. My stomach was growling. We'd gotten breakfast on the road this morning, but hadn't really eaten since.

Fang nodded. "Let's do it."

We really didn't need any more motivation than that. Ten minutes later, we found ourselves slipping into a small restaurant a few blocks away from our hotel. It was dim inside, with all kinds of memorabilia and instruments on the walls. There was jazz playing in the background. Fang and I grabbed a booth and looked through the menus.

After we'd ordered and gotten our drinks, I stirred my tea and looked out the window, watching people mill around the streets outside.

"I'm sorry," I said finally. "About the past few days."

Fang shrugged, as if it were all water under the bridge at this point, but I still felt like I needed to say more.

"I don't know… your family moved home, and my mom's been at my neck a lot lately, and…" I trailed off. There wasn't really a specific excuse for how I'd been. Looking at him, I really felt like he understood. I bit my lip.

"Is it always that bad?" Fang asked. "Ever since…we left?"

I sighed, taking a drink from my tea. "I don't know," I said. "For a while, I just kept to myself."

Fang's eyes widened in shock sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at him, smiling.

"Then, like, two months after you went to California-" it was easier saying _after you went to California _than saying _after your brother died _"-Dylan and Tim came to the house. I remember because dad dragged me downstairs and forced me to hang out with them, just because they were _someone_, you know? I'd been a hermit for weeks." I laughed lightly, as if that made it better. "We walked to Lou's and got shakes, and finally Dylan looked at me and just flat-out told me, 'Max, you aren't who you used to be.'" I shrugged at Fang and said, "And I decided he was right."

Fang's eyes were roaming the restaurant. "You should've wrote to me."

I looked down at the table. "About what? '_Hey Fang, almost got arrested yesterday. I've gone to school hung over seven times in the last two weeks. Just wanted to let you know that if you were here, you wouldn't even recognize me_.'"

"See?" Fang said. I looked up at him curiously. He pointed at me. "You obviously had things to write about. You had no excuse." I rolled my eyes. Fang's knee bumped mine under the table, smirking. "Don't dwell in the past, Max. Look at where we are. Look at how much shit I've gotten myself in to get you to New York."

My tentative smile fell. He _had _gotten himself into a ton of trouble. Skipping school for a week, so close to graduation, would be hell on his grades. And his poor parents were probably ready to alert the police that he was missing. Not to mention he had to take money out of his college fund to do this. All for me.

Now that I really thought about it, Fang had done so much for me since he'd gotten home. He'd stood up for me against Dylan and his antics, he'd helped me slowly work through my guilt about Jason, and he'd given me the one thing I wanted most in the entire world - an escape. And how did I repay him? I stirred up trouble in him family and possibly ruined his chances of getting into a good college.

"I'm sorry," I said again, feeling my face heat up with shame.

"Shut up," Fang said, rolling his eyes at me. "No one apologizes in New York."

I laughed and he gave me a real smile, the same breathtaking smile from his birthday, when I'd kissed him. The waiter came by with our food and we dug in, settling into silence as we shoveled food into our mouths. We finished dinner without any more deep conversation, and by the time we got back to the hotel it was ten thirty.

"I want to see the Statue of Liberty," I said, pushing off my jeans and pulling on a pair of sweats.

Fang nodded, flopping down on his mattress and turning on the TV. "Good idea. Maybe we can go up in the crown."

"Do they still do that? Really?"

Fang smirked at the excitement in my voice. I raised my shirt over my head and pulled on my hoodie from the night before, freezing my ass off.

"God, it's ridiculously cold in here," I said, slipping under the covers on my bed. The sheets were just as cold as the rest of the room and I rubbed my legs and arms, trying to get warm. My teeth were chattering. I closed my eyes and clutched my pillow, willing myself to heat up. Fang started turning through channels.

I turned onto my other side, facing the wall instead of Fang. He watched TV for almost an hour, then shut it off, plunging the hotel room into darkness and silence simultaneously. I heard his bed creak as he shifted, heard him move under the covers. I rolled over and saw him staring right at me, both of us wide awake. He smirked and raised his covers.

I dove out of my bed, my feet hitting the ground only once before I slithered under his blankets beside him.

"Holy crap," I whispered, shivering as my freezing body met Fang's blazing one. "Come here, space heater."

Fang's arms wrapped around me and I twisted my legs with his, pressing my frozen toes against his calves. He kissed my forehead and I closed my eyes.

After a little while, I heard Fang say, "You know, Max, I _do _recognize you."

I started, not sure what he was talking about. Then I remembered our talk in the café. _Just wanted to let you know that if you were here, you wouldn't even recognize me_.

"I mean, some days you're different, but times like this, like right now, you're still you."

I nodded into his chest. I was starting to think the only reason I was being so open and happy was because I wasn't home, and I wasn't facing all my demons head on. When we went home, what would happen to us? To our experience here?

"I just have bad days," I whispered. "I could go a whole week without a breakdown, and then another straight week being depressed. I don't know, everything changed so much when you came home that I just wasn't sure what to do anymore."

"What makes the days so bad?" Fang breathed.

I fisted the fabric of his t-shirt on his back, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to do anything, talk to anyone. I don't know if I want to…be here, sometimes."

"Here?"

I paused. "You know what I mean."

He did.

"It kills me to see you like that," Fang said softly.

I laughed dryly, blinking. "It damn near kills me, too."

I rolled over onto my side, facing away from Fang.

"Talk to me," Fang said in my ear. "When it gets that bad, talk to me. Just tell me it's one of those days." His arms tightened around my waist. For the past three years I'd felt so lost and so out of place…

Now, I couldn't think of anywhere else I should've been but Fang's arms.

"Just tell me it's one of those days, and I swear to God, Max, I'll fix it."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Oh, fangs-all-mine1123, great idea! Update every day for two weeks and then take off a week from writing **_**anything**_**. Thaaaat's consistent. **

**SO SORRY. **

**Anyways, life has been buuusy. Like, totally. And I haven't written anything in…five days. Like I said at the beginning, I had roughly 17 chapters written. I know how the story is going to end, but I'm not really sure how much more is going to be updated between now and the epilogue. So, I don't know. It could be 20 chapters, it could be 30. Don't ask me. I have no idea. **

**THANK YOU FOR THE INCREDIBLE REVIEWS. I don't deserve it. **

_Comparisons are easily done once you've had a taste of perfection._

_-Thinking of You, Katy Perry_

MAX

Fang and I spent all of Thursday milling around Manhattan, letting ourselves be pulled into any place that looked intriguing. We got bagels and spent the entire morning walking the streets of the city. We passed vendors and street performers and little magazine stands outside of boutiques with overpriced merchandise. I dragged Fang into a million different places - _Ripley's Believe It Or Not _Museum being one of them. We got the hell out of there faster than you can say _not_.

Then, on Friday, Fang and I somehow got a crown tour at the Statue of Liberty booked at one. How? Don't ask me. Technically, tours in the crown of the statue were supposed to be booked months in advance. By noon, we were en route to what is said to be one of the coolest panoramic views.

Everything and anything you've heard about the view from the Statue of Liberty is totally, completely true. If you want a breathtakingly beautiful view, you get it. It's seriously incredible. It makes you feel completely invincible while, at the same time, shrinks you to the size of a grain of sand.

"You're right, Fang," I said, staring out at Manhattan below us and the New York skyline stretching far into the distance. "The world isn't just Hayden, Virginia."

Fang's fingers squeezed my hip, pulling me closer to him. I wish I had a camera, but I'd left my phone in the hotel room. I figured this was so amazing it couldn't be captured in a photo, anyways. The best things in life can't be, you know.

After our tour, Fang and I explored the gift shop. As I played with an Ellis Island snow globe, Fang came up behind me and tapped on my shoulder. I glanced at him; he was wearing his very own Statue of Liberty crown.

"I'm buying that for you," I said, smirking. Fang grinned.

"You can get a matching one," he said, plopping one on my head.

I set down the snow globe and turned toward him. "Look, you could also get the matching torch!"

Fang rolled his eyes, taking off his crown. "You know, Max… You should apply to some schools."

My smile slid off my face. I took the crown off my head, too, and Fang and I left the gift shop together.

"What school would take me? I spent three of the four years of high school slacking and playing hooky. Besides," I said, shrugging, "I don't think I want to go to college."

Fang glanced at me. "It couldn't hurt. What would be so bad about going to college?"

"It takes money and good grades, two things I don't have. And then what, Fang? Decide on a math or science career? Otherwise my degree would be pointless, anyways. And, well, that's not how I see myself in ten years. I see myself experiencing the world, not becoming a…doctor."

I frowned. Fang shouldn't have brought this topic up. I'd successful avoided the thought of college for the last three years of high school, and now I felt like I just needed to forget it. I wished I wanted to do something more meaningful with my life, but I didn't. I didn't see myself healing people or rescuing people or teaching people. Who would want my help, anyways?

"What about psychology?"

I snorted. "Right. Because everyone wants a suicidal shrink."

Fang tensed. Now this topic was hard for both of us. I tried to shake it off and save us; we'd had such an incredible day, and I really didn't want to ruin it with this depressing talk. We could save that for later, when we got home and everything fell to pieces again.

"How about we get some lunch?" I proposed. "I'm feeling Hibachi-"

"Max."

I looked up at him, begging him not to analyze me right then. "I was kidding," I said, not truthfully. But, hopefully, he'd believe me anyways.

Nope. Fang sighed, looking like he really wanted to say something but wouldn't. "No, you weren't."

Well, whatever. He was giving me that I-dare-you-to-argue look and so I sighed, not wanting this conversation to turn into the sappy heart-to-heart we'd had two nights previous. I shrugged, because everything I wanted to say seemed inadequate at the moment and I didn't know how to lighten the mood.

"So, Hibachi?" Fang said slowly. I smiled.

"Yeah. Let's go."

While Fang and I were devouring some to-die-for teriyaki chicken and fried rice at a Hibachi grill near our hotel, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Before I could chide him for breaking my no-phones rule, he held it up.

"GPS app," he said. "See?"

I frowned. "I'll let it slide. What do you have in mind?"

Fang shrugged and continued eating. Then, after a minute, he slid his phone across the table to me.

"Coney Island?"

He smirked. "It's like twenty minutes from here," he said, waiting for my opinion.

"Coney Island," I repeated. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do it. I've always wanted to go to an amusement park."

And that decided it. The rest of Friday we spent eating hotdogs and cotton candy, riding roller coasters and thrill rides, and experiencing one of the coolest attractions in America.

The hours of the day on Friday flew by way too quickly. Soon, it was nine o'clock and we were back at our hotel in Manhattan, laying in silence in the bed Fang had claimed for himself.

"Thanks, Fang."

Even if everything changed when we got home, I was still grateful for everything Fang had done for me. I would never be able to repay him; neither for the material things he'd given me or the spiritual ones. Whether it was because of Fang's acceptance or my distance from Hayden, I didn't feel so ripped up about Jason's death anymore. I still missed him like crazy, and there wasn't a minute that went by that I didn't think about him, but I didn't blame myself, and that was an incredible feeling.

Fang, who was holding me tight, his arms rubbing the small of my back, looked down at me. He planted a kiss on my lips, quick and sweet. I closed my eyes.

"Night, Max."

• • •

The entire ride home, I tried to get Fang to go anywhere but Hayden.

It seems almost stupid, now. I had been dreading going home so much; been dead against going back. I begged him to take a detour. "Fang, let's go to Chicago!" "Fang, let's go to the Great Lakes!" "Fang, let's go to Canada!"

Home was the last place I wanted to go. I didn't want to face the wrath of my mother; I didn't want to see the disappointed look in my Dad's eyes; I didn't want to know if Fang's parents were angry at me for influencing their son to skip a week of school.

But, Fang wouldn't allow me to run away anymore. RemembeR? He was strictly against running away from one's problems. (I decided not to tell him that, technically, we'd run away to New York for a week, but whatever).

_Welcome to Hayden, Virginia: Population 204_ was in my sights at two thirty. I was practically shaking with a million different emotions: the things Fang and I had experience in the past five days had changed my life a thousand times over. The last thing I wanted to do was get home and lose everything we'd gained in New York. The feeling of freedom, the feeling of understanding. The acceptance. The happiness. It had honestly been the best time of my life, and now it had to end.

I gritted my teeth, hard, when we drove into town. It was completely silent in the car; I knew Fang wanted to help me but didn't exactly know how.

The look on people's faces in town when they recognized Fang's Jeep…they were literally priceless. Despite the fact that they heightened my nervousness by fourteen bajillion, it was kind of hilarious. As soon as Nudge and Tim saw Fang and I drive by Lou's, my phone blew up. I ignored it for now. I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but that could wait until after my mother dismembered me.

When Fang rolled to a stop in my driveway, I leaned back in my seat and took a deep breath, eyeing my house. As always, it looked normal. Completely normal.

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll see you later," I said. I didn't open the door yet. I looked back at him.

Then, because there weren't any words to really express what I wanted to say, I leaned over and hugged him, hard. Fang's arms tightened around my waist and he held me against him longer than I'd intended.

The hug said thanks. And it said, I'm nothing without you. And, I feel like a different person. And, I've found something to live for. And, I wouldn't trade this trip for anything in the world.

I got out of his Jeep and made him promise to call me once everything settled down. I grabbed my things and headed for the front door. Before I could even walk inside, though, I saw a note on the door.

_Max, Jared- _

_Hospital, room 2608. Everything is okay. _

_Lana_

Fang was pulling out of my driveway. I ripped the note off my front door, dropped my backpack and box of Jason's things on the porch, and ran after his Jeep.

"Fang!"

I sprinted up to his Jeep and he pulled to a stop, barely at the mouth of my driveway. I pulled open the door. I hoisted myself up onto the seat and slammed the door shut.

"Something's wrong," I said, shoving the note at him. "Something happened. Hurry. Go."

Without question, Fang drove. I tried to keep myself calm, I really did…but the worst thoughts were in my mind as we neared the hospital.

God. Was it Iggy? Had he had an accident or gotten hurt? I should have never left him. He needs me. What the hell was I thinking? I should've come home days ago.

"Stop it, Max," Fang said softly. "I'm sure everything's going to be fine."

"Goddamn it," I moaned, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes. "Fang, I should've been here. What if it's Iggy? What if something happened to him?"

The only things I could think of were the last things Ig and I had said to each other, in person. They hadn't been pretty. Then, after our fight, I'd left him. Ditched him. And I was supposed to _be there _for him.

I had to clamp my mouh shut to keep from yelling at Fang to drive faster. The hospital was just outside of town, a ten-fifteen minute drive from my house. It felt like a lifetime.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, Fang and I parked and ran into the emergency lobby. We flew past the receptionist and found our way to the second floor, room 2108.

I saw Iggy in the hallway outside the room and lept at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso.

"Iggy," I breathed. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said, his hold on my so suffocating I couldn't think anything but _He's okay. _"Me, too, Max."

"What happened? What's going on?"

Iggy pulled back from me, his blind eyes shut and his eyebrows wrinkled together in pain.

"It's…well, it's Dad," Iggy said slowly. "I came home yesterday and practically tripped over him, lying unconscious in the kitchen."

My breath froze in my throat. I was at Coney Island, dreading having to come home, while my dad…

"What is it? What happened?"

Iggy rubbed his forehead. "We don't know. He woke up last night and just kept complaining about his head. They've been running tests all morning. We aren't sure-"

The door to my dad's hospital room opened.

"Mom, what-"

My mother looked at me with the fiercest anger I've ever seen. "Do _not _speak to me. I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

I gaped at her. I knew she'd be angry, but in a time like this, with my dad's health on the line? Really?

I swallowed and looked down, my face heating with equal amounts of shame and anger. "Okay."

Mom's eyes were red. She dabbed at them, sniffling, trying to uphold her lady-like appearance and poise.

"Oh, God, sweetie," I heard. Lana came out of the waiting room down the hall and rushed to my mother. "What did the doctor say?"

My mother took another moment to compose herself before letting the words escape in a whisper. "Terminal brain cancer."

Time.

Froze.

I felt Fang's hands on my arms but didn't realize what they were. I felt him support me while my knees buckled, and though I knew he was looking at me with those eyes of his, I couldn't see much through my blurred vision.

No.

Terminal. As in _causing death_.

No.

My father…did not…could not…he wasn't even…

Fang pulled me hard into his chest. My body subconsciously forced me to take harsh, deep breaths, or else I would've passed out.

Finally, when I could manage speaking, I croaked out, "Fang?"

"I'm here," he said, supporting all my weight against him.

I should have been home. I should have been home with him. I should have been there when Iggy, poor, blind Iggy, found him lying in the kitchen. I should have treated him a million times better than I did. I should have been a better daughter for him, and I should've shown him the love I was always too afraid to give.

"I should have been here," I moaned into Fang's neck, clinging to him.

"No," Fang breathed. "Max, don't say that. It wouldn't have… it wouldn't have changed anything."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Wishing that, if there really was a God out there, somewhere, he'd take me and put me in someone else's life, in someone else's shoes. Surely anything would be better than this wrenching pain that was making it so hard for me to breathe.

Terminal brain cancer. Terminal brain cancer. Terminal. Brain. Cancer.

The words repeated over and over and over again in my head, until my mother and Fang's mother and Iggy and the hospital and even Fang all faded into the background and became nothing.

It was then that my world fell to a million pieces.

**A/N: Well, so there we have it. The third component to this intricate, depressing plotline. How fuuuuuuun. **

**Review. **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Sorry! It's short, but I wanted to update today. **

**So, yes, obviously this story will be more than twenty chapters. I still have quite a few decisions to make about the next 5+ chapters of this story, but I just really hope you love it. Seriously. **

**Sorry it's taken me a while to update. I've been splitting my time between, school, work, social life, and two stories; this one, and a Post-Fang I've been working on for FOREVER. So, yeah. Not including my random updates of TMW and Trilogy Outtakes. Crazy life, guys. **

**The feedback I've gotten for this story has been a blessing. I love that this story makes you feel things (sorry, most those things are sad!) and I love that you guys have stuck with me. LOOK AT HOW MANY REVIEWS WE HAVE. Mind blown. **

**Read on!**

**WARNING: If you like to turn on the songs I quote while you read the chapter…beware, you're gonna cry with this one. Just saying. **

_I need someone who understands._

_-Til Kingdom Come, Coldplay_

MAX

Fang, Iggy and I pulled into the hospital parking lot at two thirty on Monday. Dad was still there, and had been all weekend. The cancer was already at stage four, so they weren't sure where exactly to go from there. My mother was there with my dad, talking about the options of where to go from here.

Being the glass-half-full, optimistic girl I am, I only saw one option for my dad - and it wasn't good.

When we got up to my dad's room, his door was wide open. He was not lying in bed, hooked up to machines. Instead, he was standing, slowly buttoning up his collared shirt.

"Dad, what are you doing?" I asked in surprise. All weekend he'd been on strict bed rest while the doctors and my mom decided what to do. I glanced around for her, wondering if my dad was breaking rules.

My mother, who was standing down the hall and talking to my dad's doctor and one of the nurses, glanced up when she hear me. Her eyes went back to the doctor immediately.

"Well, sweetheart, I'm going home," he said, smiling at us. I stood completely still.

"Uh, why? Shouldn't you stay here for tests and chemo?"

My father hesitated. Then, before he answered, my mother stepped around the three of us in the doorway and went over to my dad.

"He isn't taking chemotherapy." She looked at my brother. "James, dear, will you grab your father's bag? I'm sure Jared wouldn't mind helping him to the car."

Fang nodded and Iggy held out his arms. My mom set the bag in his grip and she and Ig left for the car.

"Dad." I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his torso. "You refused treatment?"

He smoothed my hair back. "I don't want to spend the next months in the hospital. I want to be at home."

"You aren't even going to try?" I whispered.

He pulled me tight against him, kissing my forehead. "If I need chemicals pumped into my body to keep me alive, then I obviously am overstaying my welcome. God has a plan for all of us, Max."

God. God had a plan. Everything God did was a reason, right?

So then what was his reason for this?

Fang and I walked out with my dad and helped him into mom's car. She hadn't spoken more than ten words to me all weekend, but I knew she was pushing off my punishment for skipping town until things settled down.

After they left, Fang and I walked to his Jeep. Fang was going to drive me to the shrink.

"He's going to die," I ground out, staring out the window. "He's going to die, and now there really is nothing I can do about it." Fang sighed.

"What…what am I supposed to do?" I whispered.

"I…don't know," Fang answered. "I'm sorry."

I didn't blame him for not knowing what to say to me. It was hard finding things to say. So Fang grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles, and we didn't talk the rest of the ride. Fang's hand in mine was an aching kind of comfort; the kind that helped me immensely even though nothing, _nothing _would completely erase the pain in my heart.

The coffee in the therapist waiting room tasted like hot water with a sour aftertaste. It seared my throat but I drank it anyways, trying to distract myself. Sipping on disgusting coffee was better than brainstorming ways to off myself.

Jason's death had happened in seconds. In an instant, he'd gone from alive to dead without so much as a dying wish. He hadn't seen it coming - no one could have. It was tragic and sudden and unfair.

My father had four months, or, sixteen and a half weeks. And, trust me, it felt just as tragic and sudden and unfair as it did with Jason.

There are things in life I don't understand, and then there are things I wish I didn't. Death was one of each. It was a mystery in some ways; who really knew where someone went after death, or whether someone had a soul, or whether God was real? Death was an strange conundrum.

On the other hand, death was ruthless. I knew this firsthand. No one escaped it. I realized it didn't matter whether or not you knew when death was coming, because it eventually always did. It didn't matter if you got to say goodbye, got to try and come to terms with the death. Either way, death is inevitable. And permanent. And there's just no way around the feeling of losing someone.

I had always thought, _God, if only I had known that Jason was going to break his neck jumping off that goddamn cliff. Maybe then I'd have said the right things and done the right things. Maybe I would feel better if I'd had time to say goodbye. _

But now, I was given four months to say goodbye to my father, and all I wanted was more time.

"It is four fifteen on Monday, February twenty-sixth. Max Ride is here for a one-hour session."

There was no point in avoiding Dr. Jackson's questions anymore. After I spilled about Jason, I didn't feel the need to hide. So, when Dr. Jackson asked me how I was, I answer honestly.

"My mom is seriously considering disowning me. My dad is giving up, refusing chemo. My grades are at their all-time low. Everything is actually _worse _than it was a couple weeks ago, and I hadn't even thought that was possible."

Dr. Jackson was quiet for a second.

"Listen," I said finally. "We both know you don't need to diagnose me. I'm sure we've both realized by now that I'm depressed and suicidal. I don't want medication. And I don't want advice. All I want is you to answer one of my questions, honestly."

Dr. Jackson took his glasses off and cleaned them on a small piece of fabric from his pocket. Then, setting his glasses back on his nose, he looked at me, folded his hands in his lap, and said, "Okay."

"If there is a God," I said, watching his earnestly, "and he is trying to teach me a lesson, what happens if I don't learn it?"

Dr. Jackson was at a loss for words.

I closed my eyes for a full minute, feeling the desperate fear seep into my blood stream like a drug. "I'll see you on Friday, Dr. Jackson."

**A/N: My cousin is the strongest person I know. She has terminal lung cancer, was told she had six months to live, and she came to me yesterday and said, "I told my doctor that if I lived longer than he told me I had left, I'd punch him in the nose. I was supposed to die a week ago." **

**Review.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: All these chapters are grossly short…Sorry. Um, in other news, there is going to be a bit of a time jump over the next few chapters. Thank you so, so much for the reviews. Y'all rock. **

**Here's a little Max and Dad heart-to-heart. **

_If we could only turn back time._

_-Moments, One Direction_

MAX

"So, you and Fang, huh?"

I looked at my dad, completely taken aback by that statement. It was the next Wednesday, an entire week and half after my dad's diagnosis, and he'd asked me to help him with a salad to go with our pasta, which he'd cooked for dinner. Ig was at Fang's house and my mother was at a meeting with the parishoners of the town, talking about certain boring town matters.

My dad was the only one out of mine and Fang's parents who called Fang by his nickname - since he was the one who'd come up with it in the first place. When my dad randomly said this, I almost cut my thumb instead of the tomato I was busy slicing.

"What?"

He grinned, looking up from washing the lettuce. Mom had tossed out all the junk food, insisting that we should all be eating healthy. Hate to break it to her, but eating healthy was not going to make Dad's cancer go away.

"Where'd you two go, anyways?"

I didn't say anything.

"Don't worry about me telling your mom," he said. "She's never understood my need for adventure, either. This can be between us."

I set down my knife and turned to face him. Feeling more like my father than I ever had before, I said, "Fang and I went to New York."

"What was it like?"

"It was amazing," I said softly. I dried my hands on a dish rag and stole one of the slices of tomato for myself. "All of those people, all of those places…it was incredible, Dad. We went up in the crown of the Statue of Liberty. We went to Coney Island."

He smiled, his eyes full of wisdom that only a dad can have. "You sound excited."

"I…I'm sorry," I said, looking down. My dad set down the head of lettuce and came over to me. He grabbed my shoulders.

"For what?"

Everything. That's what I wanted to say. Wasn't it that simple, really? I was sorry for a million different things, things that it would take me weeks just to list.

"Don't be sorry. I'm very proud of you."

I looked away, unable to look my own father in the eye. He was proud of _me_? For what?

"You're brave," he said matter-of-factly.

"I'm a coward," I said under my breath.

"Not even a bit," he said earnestly, shaking his head.

"If I were you," I started, then trailed off. "Dad, if I were in your shoes, I'd be relieved."

That was the most hideous thing I'd ever admitted outloud. My father was slowly being eaten away at by a ruthless disease, and I _wanted _it. I wished it was me - not just because I could save my father, but because I wanted a way out. I'd been wanting it for who knew how long. I'd never been afraid of dying. Dying wasn't nearly as scary as losing people you loved.

"In my shoes."

"Yes," I breathed. "Sick."

"Dying," he clarified strongly, his eyes gentle.

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Guess what?" he said, staring down at me. "You've felt like that for years, and you're still here." He grabbed my chin. "You're brave, Max."

"If I were brave, I wouldn't want to die in the first place."

"If you weren't brave, you wouldn't admit that outloud."

Even though I had nothing to say, I threw my arms around my dad. I hugged him as hard as I could, like when I was eight and he'd pick me up and swing me around until we were both dizzy and laughing hard. I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged him for at least a full minute.

He kissed my forehead and pulled away, taking the lettuce and continuing the job of preparing a salad. It was almost six, which meant my mother was going to be home any minute. Fang was apparently driving Ig home.

"Forgot to tell you," Dad said. "You got a few things in the mail today. University of Illinois wants you."

I chewed on my lip.

"Can we have another just-between-you-and-me moment?" I asked finally.

He nodded.

"I don't think I want to go to college," I said.

My dad didn't answer for a long time. Finally, he said, "Max, don't let anyone tell you how to live you life - not even your mother. If you do, you'll never be happy." 

Before I could respond - or bask in my father's expansive wisdom - Fang and Iggy came through the front door.

"Hey, guys," Dad called, throwing the ingredients for the salad together in a big bowl. "Fang, you want to stay for dinner?"

"No thanks," Fang said. "I'm heading out in a few."

I slipped out of the kitchen while Iggy took up a conversation with my dad and went into the living room with Fang.

"How's he doing today?" Fang asked under his breath.

"Okay," I said, glancing into the kitchen. "Better than yesterday. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Fang."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that nothing is going on. Pretend everything is okay."

Wasn't that horrible? I couldn't stand to be around my family right now, even though my dad's clock was ticking much faster than any of us had expected. Everyone was putting on an act, pretending he was fine. I'd heard my mother tell her book club yesterday that, "Jeb is doing just fine, thank you."

Fang pulled me, bringing our bodies and faces closer together. "I know," Fang said. "But pretend for him, Max."

Right. My dad didn't want us all to walk around, gloomy and depressed, knowing his death was looking near in the distance.

"Right now, he's doing good," Fang said, looking past me into the kitchen. "Let's focus on that."

I stared at Fang. He finally looked back down at me, saw my face, and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

I shrugged. "You always know what to say," I said. He grinned, so I added, "It's kind of annoying."

He rolled his eyes. The front door opened behind me and I turned to see my mother walking into the house, her eyes fixing on us the moment she stepped into the living room.

"Jared," she greeted.

"Hey, Mrs. Ride," Fang said. He glanced at me. "Uh, I'll see you guys later." He squeezed my hand. _I'll see you later_, it said. I nodded.

"Honey, just in time," Dad called. "I've been slaving over this hot stove for hours."

He held up the salad as evidence. Mom smiled, not seeing the humor. She took her coat off at the door, hung it up in the hall closet, and made her way into the dining room. I followed. Iggy was already at the table and my dad came in, carrying the salad and the bowl of pasta.

My mother led us in prayer, then sat still and watch us serve ourselves. I filled Iggy's plate and handed it to him before serving myself. Surprisingly, this dinner felt as uncomfortable and stiff as every other dinner with my family felt. How refreshing. We got through maybe five minutes of normalcy before my mother interrupted.

"I need to say something," she said, setting down her fork. We all watched her, waiting. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

You see, due to all chaos over the past few days, my dad's diagnosis and all, my mother hadn't had time to punish me for skipping town for five days. I was sure she was absolutely livid about the entire thing - as if I hadn't done enough to ruin her reputation in town already, now I had to run away. She was obviously pissed. She hadn't spoken to me at all in the days I'd been home. I couldn't say I'd hated the distance.

"We never spoke about Max's little escapade last week," she said. As my dad tried to interrupt, she added, "Jeb, we need to have this discussion."

My dad closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. He would just let her do her thing - surprise, surprise.

The she-devil directed her attention to me.

"Things are going to change around here, Max. What you did last week was completely unacceptable and selfish. From now on, if you live in this house, you live by my rules. You become the daughter I raised you to be. And by God, Max, if you make one more decision that I myself wouldn't make, don't even bother coming home."

"Val," my dad said lowly.

"No," I said, putting my hand up to him. "That's a relief to hear that, Mom. Really."

She raised an eyebrow at me. I could feel my brother's dread at what I was about to say rolling off of him in waves.

I stood up. "I mean, here I was, worrying that you were going to put me on house arrest for the rest of my existence. It is just _so much easier _to not come home at all."

• • •

Fang's parents weren't home. When I let myself into his house, the entire place was quiet. I slowly crept upstairs to his bedroom and pushed open the door. He was sitting on his bed, doing something on his computer.

"Clear your browser history, quick!" I said, poking my head around his door. Fang rolled his eyes.

"What's up?"

"Mom just kicked me out," I said, sitting next to him. Then, I added, "Well, I kind of kicked myself out…she gave me an offer I had to refuse."

Fang grinned. "Stop having fun or move out?"

"Pretty much," I said. I leaned back next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. "Mind if I stay tonight?"

"Nope," Fang said, closing his computer. "Figured you would whether you and Mom had a fallout, or not."

I got up off his bed and went over to his dresser, digging through the drawers until I came across a pair of sweatpants.

"So, are you going back?"

I pulled the sweatpants on, thinking on the question for a second. "Eventually. Can't desert Ig. Or my dad; not now."

I turned around and looked at him, sprawled carelessly across his bed. He stared back at me, his arms tucked under his head. I sighed and crawled onto the bed next to him, lying on my back.

For as long as I could remember since Jason died, all I'd wanted was to escape Hayden. As soon as I got my diploma, I wanted out. I wanted to road trip around the country, taking jobs here and there, exploring and experiencing…

Could that ever be my reality? Graduation was in less than four months - which was the same time frame the doctors had given my dad. If, somehow, he made it that long, there was no way I'd be able to leave him. And…if he didn't, then I still wouldn't feel right leaving Iggy all alone with my mom. I was supposed to look out for him; I was supposed to be there for him.

"Why can't this just be easy?" I mumbled, pressing my fists into my eyes.

Fang turned onto his side and peered at me, obviously understanding that it was a rhetorical question.

"I know what I want. But…doesn't it make me a horrible, selfish person if I choose myself over my brother? I mean, I know that I want to get out of here as soon as possible, but my mother will never let go of Iggy. She'll probably drive him to and from community college a few towns over, make him live here with her, in Hayden until he gets married and finds a wife to take care of him. And what kind of sister would I be to desert him completely just to get away from my own problems?" I rolled onto my stomach, taking a deep breath and then stuffing my face into Fang's pillow. Then I said through the pillow, "I'm going to be stuck here my entire life if I don't get out soon, Fang."

**A/N: Review. **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:I just want to say, I've gotten _incredible_ - not to mention totally unexpected - feedback from some amazing people on here. For an AU/AH story, I am amazed by the support you guys have given me. Just...thanks. Thanks a million. **

_**House of Hades **_**came out Tuesday! For those of you who don't know, that's the fourth book in Rick Riordan's second Percy Jackson series… it's amazing so far. And his book dedication is adorable! **

**Did anyone watch **_**American Horror Story**_**? Jeez, it was awesome. I seriously think this year's going to be the best so far. **

**Anyways. Life, as always, is tough these days. I don't get as much time to write. But, here we go! Chapter 21!**

**Just a little side note, this song is both beautiful and heartbreaking. I love John Mayer and pretty much everything about him. This song will make you cry for hours. **

_Then all at once, you have to say goodbye._

_-Dreaming With a Broken Heart, John Mayer_

MAX

I'd like to tell you my dad got better.

I'd also like to tell you that Jason didn't die when I was fourteen; that my mom wasn't ignoring my existence; that my brother wasn't blind and my best friend wasn't going to ditch me for college and my life wasn't a complete wreck.

I'd like to tell you that things started looking up.

But then I'd be lying.

Waiting four months for anything usually feels like a lifetime. But this time, in this particular situation, it was gone in the blink of an eye. One day, my dad had _just _been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, and given four months to live. The next thing I knew, it was a week before graduation. And my dad had roughly one month left, so they said.

I was getting sicker and sicker of school the more I went. Everyday, one of my teachers gave us a stern talk about graduation and college and post-grad and the rest of our _entire freakin' lives_… I was done with it.

I came into school late that Tuesday. Dad hadn't been doing well all night, and my mother had to go to work. Ig went to school with Fang and I stayed with Dad for most of my first period class, until he forced me to go to school.

When I walked in the building, there were only three minutes left of Chemistry; there was no point in going to first hour for three minutes. I went straight to my locker to get my things and opened the door to my locker right as the bell rang. The hallway was suddenly swarmed by teenagers and I closed my eyes for a second, trying to imagine a world where everything was different.

Fang came out of nowhere.

"Hey," he said, touching my waist. I turned to look at him. He kissed me quickly, which I hadn't expected. I smiled tiredly at him.

"Had to help Dad this morning," I said, almost apologetically.

"I know," he said, his eyes reading me. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

I nodded and watched him disappear down the hall. I closed my locker and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Dylan leaning against the locker next to mine.

"Holy shit," I breathed, putting my hand on my heart.

"You know what's funny?"

I stared at him. "The fact that you're trying to talk to me right now."

Dylan looked at me, his eyes curious.

"You don't remember Tim's, do you?" I asked. It didn't matter. I already knew the answer.

He just looked at me. That was nothing new.

"You have no reason to speak to me anymore," I said dismissively, turning to go to class. Whatever he thought was funny, I didn't need to hear it.

He thought I did, though.

Dylan grabbed my wrist. I turned around to face him again.

"It's funny, Max," Dylan said. "You would've dumped me for him anyways."

I opened my mouth to answer, then wondered if I even could. Was he right? I wasn't sure. So I just shrugged. It wasn't my job to console Dylan. I didn't have to humor him anymore. Whatever it was we'd had before, that was gone; as far as I was concerned, I didn't have any reason to put up with him anymore.

"Who knows," I said. "You never gave me the chance."

• • •

I had my earbuds in and my music turned up when I got the pass. A hall monitor brought my teacher the pass, and she dropped it on my desk, right on my notebook. In the time blank, someone had scrawled _ASAP. _In the reason blank was empty.

I stared at it.

"You can go right now," my teacher said, standing next to me.

Wait. Is that was ASAP means?

I shoved my notebook into my backpack and, without a word, brushed past my teacher and out into the hall. The music blasting in my ears was the only distraction from the loud thumping of my heart.

Why wouldn't the secretary write the reason? Was it too bad to write down? Was she not given one?

_Calm down, Max. You're overreacting. You don't know what's going on, so don't stress yourself out. _

As soon as I pushed into the office and saw Fang and Iggy standing there, my heart stopped. Fang's mom was there. Why was Lana pulling us all out of school? Why would Lana…

Fang opened his mouth to speak and I pulled my earbuds out, shoving them into my jacket pocket. You could still hear the music playing.

"Don't lie to me." If they tried to tell me everything was going to be okay, I wouldn't have been able to handle it.

Fang rubbed his forehead, looking at his mom. She wrung her hands. Then, as she was about to speak, I interrupted again.

"Don't tell me bad news."

He was supposed to have four months. That meant, four _whole _months. Not three months and a few days. No. If the doctors were going to do anything fucking right, they should've given us an exact time frame. Not an estimate. Not get our hopes up with the prospect of extra time. No.

Now, Fang's mom had no idea _what _to tell me. She obviously didn't want to upset me, so she just said, "Come on, kids."

I grabbed Iggy's arm and he exhaled, his nostrils flaring, and that was all I needed. I knew this was what I thought it was, knew our lives were moments away from changing. I twisted my fingers in Iggy's and pulled him out into the parking lot.

_If I don't go, will it not happen? _I couldn't help the thought from pushing into my mind. Of course it would still happen. My dad was getting - had gotten - drastically worse, no matter what I did. But I was not going to run away, not from this. Either way, this was happening, and even though it was _torture _to watch my dad waste away, I was not going to desert him.

I knew I would just hate myself even more if I did.

"What is it, Lana?" I asked finally, my voice cracked. I didn't want to know; I didn't want her to tell me. But at the same time, I wanted to know now so that I didn't fall apart when I got home. I _needed _to know, whether I wanted to or not.

"Max…" Lana was the kindest woman on the face of the earth, so I knew she wouldn't want to be the bearer of bad news. She didn't want to be the one to tell me. I sighed. "Is he worse? Are they putting him on hospice?"

My dad's doctor had told us that eventually, he'd be put on hospice. Basically, hospice was when the cancer got so bad that the doctors couldn't do anything but make dad comfortable for his last days. Usually this was the last stage of terminal cancer, so they told us that hospice was something to expect in the near future.

"No," Lana responded, her voice quiet. "I…I'm sorry Max. He's gotten worse."

"Worse?" I glanced at Iggy, who was resting his head on the window, his eyes closed and his eyebrows drawn together in anguish. Fang's hand was on my knee and I could feel him watching me. "Worse, but not bad enough for hospice?"

It was stupid for me to hope, really. Stupid for me to try and be optimistic. I should've known.

Lana glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I realized we were driving toward the hospital, not the house.

Fang slid the hand that was on my knee up and around my waist, pulling me closer. "Your dad called the hospital himself a few hours ago, apparently having bad headaches and vision problems."

"Okay?" I said, my body shaking nervously. No one spoke. "Goddamn it, tell it to me straight already!"

Lana's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "It's time to say our goodbyes, Max," she whispered. "The doctors don't think it'll be much longer."

What do you do with that kind of information? When you can't run, or curl up in a ball, or scream and cry your eyes out… When you have to be strong for your brother and your father… When you knew it was coming, but suddenly your entire mind and your entire body expel the truth like poison…What do you do?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's easier, clearly, to shut down; to imagine a different life and a different fate and an ending that's happy.

A happy ending. A great idea, in theory, but basically unrealistic. Happy endings are things that only exist in fairy tales; stories told to children to give them hope about the world. Happy endings are _fictional_. They aren't _real_. There's no such thing. Something I'd learned for myself very early in life.

Tragedy is real, though. All too real. This morning, when I'd woken up, it had been the same as any other Tuesday. Miserable, albeit normal for me. And now, in a matter of minutes, my day had transformed from any other Tuesday to the Tuesday I lost my dad.

I wasn't ready for my day to transform, yet.

We rushed into the hospital. Our speed-walking to the elevators was frantic, as if every second that ticked away was my dad's last. When we got there, the door was shut and Fang's dad was leaning against the wall outside the room, staring blindly at the ceiling. He heard our footsteps and tried to smile.

"Val wanted some space."

I knew it was normal for a wife to want to spend one-on-one time with her dying husband, but I felt a rush of anger at the thought that my mother had kicked Fang's dad out of the room. My dad was Zach Carter's best friend, and he deserved to be there.

"Too bad," I muttered, stepping towards the door. "I want to see him."

"Max, hold on," Lana said grabbing my arm. "He's not completely conscious. He's in a sort of medical-induced coma, to help with the pain. He hasn't been speaking or opening his eyes much. Give your mom awhile, sweetie."

I relented, leaning against the wall beside Fang and Iggy. After a few minutes, though, my mother seemed to have had enough one-on-one time. She burst out of the room, sobbing, and walked past all of us down the hall into the restroom.

I shoved off the wall, grabbing Iggy's wrist. Fang's hand was on my waist. The three of us stepped into the room silently. The only sound that greeted us was the beeping of the machines around my dad's bed.

He didn't even look like my dad. Gradually, my father had been getting more and more fragile. Now, lying semi-unconscious in the hospital bed, he barely resembled himself. I couldn't believe he was the same person I'd made breakfast for that exact morning. I hadn't thought it was possible for it to get this bad, this fast. This morning he'd been…well, he'd been a whole lot better. And now…

"Take me to him," Iggy whispered, and I guided my brother to the chair by my dad's bed. Then, I took my father's thin, limp hand and placed it in Iggy's.

Iggy swallowed, his eyes red, and pressed my dad's fist to his forehead.

"What are we supposed to do…" he choked out, trying to hold back a flood of emotions. He used my dad's knuckled to wipe his own tears and I nearly fell apart. "What are we supposed to do now?"

I sat by my brother, one of my legs overlapping his because even the wide hospital chair couldn't accommodate us both. Iggy leaned his head on my shoulder. "Are we really supposed to say goodbye?"

My dad struggled, the weakened muscles in his arms flexing. He was trying to speak, by the sound of his moaning. His eyes were still closed, his eyebrows tensed in concentration.

"Dad?" Iggy leant forward. "Hey, dad… Can you hear me? It's James."

"S-son."

I looked at my dad in shock. How he was managing to speak, pushing past all the pain, was beyond me. Iggy's resolve was breaking. He tightened his grip on my dad's hand and said quietly, "Go. Please. I want to talk to him."

Fang and I both slipped out of the room immediately, leaving Iggy alone with my father.

Outside the room, my mother was talking quietly with Lana. She seemed to have calmed down considerably, and, judging by her appearance, touched up her makeup while she was at it. Appearance is everything, right?

Fang took me by the arm and pulled me down the hall, away from them. He brought me close, wrapping me up in his arms. I wanted to forget the world. I wanted to forget everything. I clung to him.

"I…" For a second, I thought he was going to tell me he was sorry. I begged him silently in my head not to. Whether that was never his intention or he could somehow read my thoughts, he didn't. "I wish I could…help, Max."

"I know," I breathed. "Fang-"

"Max." I spun around. Iggy was standing in the doorway of my dad's room, wiping his blind eyes on his sleeve. "He wants you."

"He's talking?" My mother's head snapped up in surprise. She moved towards the room just as I did. She pushed into the room, first, and tried to close the door. I stuck my foot in and pushed it open against her.

"Get out," I said quietly, staring at her strongly. "Dad wants to talk to me."

My mother's face was full of disbelief.

"Max-"

"Val, give her just a minute," Fang's dad said softly.

My mother grudgingly moved out of the room. I shot Fang a glance before easing my dad's door shut.

The lights were dimmed, but the lamp by his bed was on. The constant beeping seemed to mark his heart beats as well as mine. I shakily sat down by his bed.

"Dad?"

Nothing. No matter what Iggy had said, my dad wasn't talking now. Maybe he was in too much pain. I almost called for a nurse to issue him more medicine, but I grabbed my father's hand instead and closed my eyes.

"Dad, I'm not ready for this." I rubbed his hand with my thumb in slow, gentle circles, like my dad did the night Jason died. He'd dragged me away from the cliff and pulled me up into his lap like I was a toddler. And while my dad and I watched them load Jason's body into an ambulance, he'd held my hand and rubbed soft circles into my skin, talking softly to me. He always knew what to say…

"I know that you keep saying God has a plan for us. If that's true…this must be God's plan, but…I'm not ready for it. I can't do this, not yet," my voice cracked and I paused, taking a few deep breaths. "And why does God keep taking away the people who mean the most to me? And why does God think I can handle this, because I can't…oh, gosh, I can't." I swiped my fist across my eyes, blinking. "How am I supposed to believe in God after all this? I don't…I don't know if I can."

My dad's hand tightened, hard, around mine. He didn't open his eyes, but in the next moment, he was whispering "God…believes in _you_, Max. T-that's what…matters."

• • •

I don't think life is fair.

I don't think it's fair that my dad died after saying one of the most ambiguous, fortune-cookie, open-ended pieces of advice ever, leaving me hanging in suspense and confusion.

I don't think it's fair that my mother hated me for not letting her talk to him before I did; that she blamed me for kicking her out of him room in his last moments.

I don't think it's fair that my dad, one of the best people in my life, lost his life to cancer.

I don't think life is fair.

But it really doesn't matter what I think.

**A/N: First of all, this would be a really shitty ending and I'm not that cruel. At least three more chapters after this, probably more. Just want to clear that up. **

**This chapter was hard for me to write. Very…personal. Mucho tears shed. **

**Um. Other than that, I hope you liked it. **

**Review.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Ugh I suck! I know, guys!**

**This whole week, I've been thinking: Go write **_**The Hardest Part**_**! Go write **_**The Hardest Part**_**! Go, go, go! You're almost done, fangs-all-mine1123! Go freakin' finish it! **

**But then, every time I sat down to write, I just wrote other things. And, making it even worse, I read House of Hades and fell in loooooove all over again with PJO (OMG NICO I TOTALLY SAW IT COMING OMG) and so I've been kind of distracted from MR for a while now. **

**Annnnnnyways. I was struggling hardcore with this, so I hope this is okay. **

_You've just got to see me through another day._

_- Fire and Rain, James Taylor_

I never knew _impossible _until I tried getting out of bed the next morning.

I hadn't even opened my eyes yet, and my father's absence hit my like a freight train. I tried standing up, and then next thing I knew I was on the ground, on my hands and knees, trying to take deep breaths, trying to suck in enough air to fill the gaping hole in my heart.

Impossible.

Fang was there. I was vaguely aware of his touch as my knees and palms left the soft carpet and I was laid gently on the bed. Fang was there, and had been all night. I'd woken up countless times, almost every hour, and each time he'd been there. He'd pulled me against him and held me tight as it felt like I was being ripped into a hundred million tiny pieces.

Had it hurt this much when Jay had died? I couldn't remember. Suddenly it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. My dad was gone. All I had of him were memories. Memories…God, they weren't enough. They'd never be enough. They hadn't been enough after Jason died and they wouldn't be now.

"_I can't_."

I wasn't really directing it to Fang, but I knew he heard me. I couldn't do a lot of things. I couldn't face the town. I couldn't take their pity. I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't stop crying.

I couldn't live without my dad.

Impossible.

"Max." Fang doesn't know what to say, I know he doesn't, so he just says my name. He kissed my temple, and my forehead, and my cheek, and he cradled me and said my name and tried to help me when I didn't even know how to help myself. It worked - as ridiculous as that sounds. It worked just enough.

And all I could think was, I couldn't live without Fang.

Impossible.

So is God going to take him from me, too?

"Don't leave me," I mumbled, clenching my fists and curling my fingers into the back of Fang's shirt. He held me tighter than ever.

"I'm not going anywhere," Fang said.

I knew in the back of my mind, in the bottom of my heart, that Fang could never keep that promise. I knew it. There was no doubt about it. Whether he liked it or not, we all left, eventually.

But I clung to him, anyways, willing myself to find hope in that one sentence. It wasn't enough. That one sentence wasn't enough. But for now, it had to be.

_Tell me it was a dream, Fang, _I thought. I didn't say it out loud because I wouldn't dare put him in that position. I wouldn't dare make him tell me the truth. But I begged him in my mind. _Tell me I'm going to go downstairs and my dad is going to be reading the paper. _

Impossible.

• • •

The Saturday after, I walked down the hill of the cemetery and stopped before Jason's grave.

_Jason Carter, beloved son…_

"You don't know how good you've got it, man," I mumbled, sinking down to sit in front of his headstone. I placed one of the two bouquets I'd brought in front of the stone.

I hadn't seen Dr. Jackson in three months; ever since my dad was diagnosed, I'd been skipping sessions. I only had two more sessions before graduation. One was on Monday, the last on Friday. Graduation was Saturday. After that…who knew where I'd be.

My mother and I hadn't spoken since my dad died. I wasn't even angry at her. No matter how much she hated me, I just didn't have the energy. It was a lot of work, hating someone all the time. It was a million times easier to just ignore her completely.

Iggy was accepted to community college a town over. He would be attending in August. Fang hadn't said anything about college; maybe because he hadn't decided what to do yet or maybe because he hadn't gotten his acceptance letters yet. I wasn't sure. Honestly, I was afraid to find out.

Me…I was just waiting for graduation to come around. In seven days, I'd be out of high school and maybe - just _maybe _- out of Hayden. Whenever I thought about the future, I thought of myself in Colorado, or Arizona, or Maine or somewhere. Anywhere but Hayden, Virginia. Anywhere but here.

Now, I wasn't sure. I was torn between staying for Iggy's sake and leaving for my own sanity. Now that I no longer had to stick around to take care of my dad, I felt like I should go off and do my own thing. But I also felt like I would be betraying Iggy if I left him with my mother like that.

"You're life is so…simple," I said softly. My eyes widened at what I'd said. "Oops. I mean, you're…afterlife. Whatever. You've got it easy."

I looked around the cemetery. Fang and Iggy had gone to the rec center today to do who-knows-what. I wasn't sure if they were still there or not. I was completely and utterly alone.

"Take care of my dad," I said softly, feeling ridiculous for talking to a slab of stone. I stood and made my way down the hill further, towards the edge of the forest. A new headstone sat there. Before it, a fresh pile of dirt. Around it, a dozen bouquets.

My vision blurred for a second.

_Jeb Ride, loved husband and father…_

I practically threw the flowers down.

Then I ran, just like Dr. Jackson taught me. Because Fang was wrong. Sometimes running away didn't mean you were running away from the truth.

It just meant you were running toward something better.

• • •

Tuesday, a whole week after my dad died, I woke up at Fang's house. I'd spent the night after mom and I had a fallout. I still had no idea what to do after graduation, but the more tension that grew between me and my mother, the more I wanted away from her.

Anyways. It was around six and Fang was in the shower. Forcing myself out of bed, I quickly got dressed and went downstairs.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Carter was busy making Fang's favorite - French toast.

"Smells good," I said. "What's the occasion?"

"The fourth - and last - college acceptance letter!" Mrs. Carter exclaimed. She pointed to a small stack on the table. I curiously read the envelopes.

Four.

That was the number of colleges Fang applied to.

Four.

That was the number of colleges that accepted him.

I knew Fang had applied to college, and I knew he was serious about getting an education, but… Four? Four colleges wanted Fang. Four colleges were offering him scholarships. Four colleges were competing for him as a student.

Who was I to compete against _four colleges_?

"Fang's been accepted to all four!" Mrs. Carter squealed. "The last letter came in yesterday."

That made me wonder when Fang had gotten the _first _letter.

And he hadn't told me.

Fang's parents were so proud of him. And with good reason, of course. He'd gotten amazing grades, gotten accepted to every college he'd applied to, _and _even been promise academic scholarships to all of them. One in California, one in Pennsylvania, and one in Georgia, and one in Missouri.

"Don't tell him I told you this, but I think he's leaning towards California," Mrs. Carter said. I leaned against the counter in their kitchen, biting my thumbnail. I forced a smile.

"Really? That's…that's… well, that's something," I mumbled.

"Yeah," Mrs. Carter said, preparing a salad. "I asked him about it the other day, and well, he doesn't even want to consider Missouri. He's not sure about Pennsylvania, either. But we toured the campus in California before we moved back here, and I really think he'd be right at home."

I nodded, staring out the window. Four colleges. God. All I could think was that I hadn't applied to one college. I hadn't given college a second thought.

Now Fang was going to move across the country, again, and what was I supposed to do? Huh?

"Max, honey, are you alright? Is it your mom? I know she'll come around sooner or later. She's just really stressed," Mrs. Carter said sweetly. She saw the look on my face and frowned. "Fang didn't tell you yet, did he?"

I shook my head.

Fang came down the stairs, his hair wet from the shower. I honestly wasn't sure what Fang and I were. Boyfriend and girlfriend? Best friends?

It didn't really matter, anyways. In a few months, we would just be pen pals.

"Hey."

I watched him. Suddenly I felt like the world was closing in on me. I pushed off the counter, wiping my sweating hands off my jeans.

"Hey, I just realized I forgot my…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "I have to run home real fast. I'll see you at school."

Behind me, I heard Mrs. Carter murmur, "I'm sorry. I thought you told her."

Fang groaned.

"Max, wait."

I was already out the door.

**A/N: Yeah, that sucked - major. Sorry guys. **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I CHANGED MY PENNAME. SORRY.**

**I just…well, I'm having identity issues. Haha, jk. Honestly, I chose that penname when I was, like ten. Back when I liked Fang. Back when Fang was my favorite fictional character ever. Now, if Fang was a real person, I'd kick him in the crotch. **

**ANYWAY. I was going to make it girlwithnolife (because you honestly have no idea how accurate that really is) but I know someone with that twitter name and I didn't want to copy. Either way, sorry about the confusion that may've caused. It's funny - just last chapter I referred to myself as fangs-all-mine1123, and now I changed it. **

**Good news, friends! I have the rest of the story outlined [indefinitely]! We should have exactly 28 chapters (The 28****th**** being the epilogue). As usual, at the end of this story I will post a teaser of my in-progress, still very very VERY rough Post-**_**Fang**_**. Note: It isn't really post-**_**Fang**_**. It's more like, um, I just changed the entire ending of Fang and then built off that. He he…**

**Here's chapter whatever. **

**Thanks for the reviews! They're amazing. **

_Maybe one of these days, you can let the light in._

_-Brave, Sara Bareilles_

MAX

"I was going to tell you."

He sounded hurt, as if I was somehow the one who'd twisted a knife into his heart, not the other way around. I winced. I hopped onto my lab stool, dropping my backpack on the floor. I looked across the lab table, where Fang was standing.

"I know," I said softly. It didn't really change anything. It didn't change the fact that whatever I thought Fang and I would have in the future would never happen. It didn't change the fact that one of the only people I had left to live for was going to become just a Skype-buddy. Or even less.

"Max…" Fang sat down on Sam's stool and looked at me, leaning close. "I haven't made a decision yet."

_I know, _I thought, and suddenly my eyes got that unholy, stinging feeling and I was _not _about to cry in the middle of class, so I looked down at the smooth black table top. "I'm happy for you, Fang. Really."

"That's bullshit," Fang grumbled, grabbing my chin and making me look at him. It was stupid to be mad at Fang for going to college but I was furious with him for causing a scene in front of the entire class. I pushed him away. Fang pushed his hand through his hair, frustrated. Sam walked into the room and immediately came over, waiting for Fang to give up the lab stool. Fang sighed. He got up without another word and went to his seat across the room.

It wasn't that I was mad at Fang - that wasn't it. Not at all. That would've been unfair. But I _was _upset. Because…well, because I guess I just thought that even if he went to college, he'd stay close and we'd be able to…be together…

I wasn't sure what the future held for Fang and I anymore. All I knew was that I didn't want to lose him; but if I was going to, I didn't want to keep holding onto something that was going to be ripped away from us in a couple months.

"All right!" Mrs. Carpenter grabbed a stack of tests off the front lab table and came to stand in front of the class as the bell rang. "It's the day we've all been anticipating," she said. "This final exam counts for fifteen percent of your grade, please do not take it lightly. For many of you, this is the difference between passing and failing. Good luck."

After her little spiel, she started passing out the test packets. I could feel Fang's eyes on me as I got my test. I tapped my pencil on my lab table, looking out the window of the school.

"_I applied to a few colleges."_

"_Fang's been accepted to all four!"_

"_I really think he'd be right at home."_

I put my head in my hands.

Basically, to sum up my entire mood: _Feelings, be gone! I have no time for your shenanigans! _

School was the absolute last place I wanted to be right then. After everything that had happened in the past three months, I felt like I just couldn't do it anymore. Was it never going to end? God, it felt like I was being constantly knocked over. I didn't know how many more times I'd be able to pick myself back up.

I could still feel Fang's eyes on me. Suddenly, I could barely breathe. My ache for Jason and my dad's death and my mother's pure hatred and Fang's impending separation from me…it was all too much.

I stood up and I felt _all _eyes on me, not just Fang. Every student in the room watched me grab my test and my backpack, walk to the front of the room, and throw my final exam in the trashcan right beside Mrs. Carpenter's table.

Then they all watched me leave.

• • •

"When Mom hears about what I did, I'm dead," I said quietly. "Prepare for World War III, Ig."

Iggy sighed, shoving a pretzel into his mouth. We were sitting in my brother's bedroom after school, eating and talking. The past week had been hard for our family; a lot of crying and fighting and missing my dad. Right now, things seemed a bit better. It was like a mirage. "I can't believe you just trashed your final, just like that."

"I never applied to college, Ig. I never even…gave it a thought. Now Fang's probably going to go to California."

"Go with him."

I glanced at my brother. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't already entertained the idea of going with Fang to California. Iggy was the only thing holding me back from running away across the country with Fang. But…

Could I betray my brother that way?

"No way," I whispered. "You're my brother. I couldn't desert you like that."

"Max, you and I both know you don't want to be here," Iggy said. "Trust me, I don't take it personally. And you and I both know Mom won't let me go. But that shouldn't hold you back. What's left for you here?"

I choked on my own spit. "You," I said, as if it were obvious.

"Well, you aren't going to lose me. Even if you move away, you'll come back sometimes. Visit. And it isn't like we won't be able to talk to each other."

"Ig, I-"

"You want this," Iggy said. "I know you do."

"I don't want to desert you," I said honestly. "I don't want you to think I've bailed on you. I _won_'t let you think I bailed on you. End of discussion."

Iggy rolled his sightless eyes, bumping me playfully and trying to erase the tension. "Max-"

"Max! Get down here, now!"

Iggy's eyes widened.

"No matter what," I said finally, "I'm always here for you. You know that, right?"

"I know," Iggy said, sighing. "I just wish you'd let me be there for you for once."

I smiled. I reached over to Ig's desk and got his iPod.

"Here," I said, fitting it into his hand. I watched him fit the earbuds in his ears. "You aren't going to want to hear this."

I didn't even really want to hear it. I got up and walked down the stairs. The last thing I wanted to do today was bicker with my mother, but I figured it would just get worse if I pushed it off.

In the kitchen, my mother was standing at the counter. The house felt hauntingly empty without my dad around; I kept expecting him to walk through the kitchen to get some coffee, to come out of his office with a book and sit in his recliner in the den.

I couldn't help but notice that the newspaper my dad had been reading a week ago was still sitting on the counter. I blinked, forcing myself to look at my mother.

She slid a piece of paper across the table to me, her face serious. I looked down.

It was a plane ticket.

One way.

I let out a shocked laugh, trying to cover the immense pain I felt. Just because I knew my mother hated me didn't make it hurt any less. "You're shipping me away? For not taking my Chemistry final?"

She looked at me without any emotion or sympathy. "This is not about the test. Your teacher, considering the situation, is willing to give you a second chance - which you _will _take." She brushed her hair back, frowning. "This…this is about everything else."

I almost couldn't help but laugh. I tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling. _Good one, big guy. I seriously did not see this one coming. Wow. _

It never ceased to amaze me.

"Your cousin lives there," she said. "Your grandparents' old farm."

Cousin?

Wait a minute - grandparents?

"You're shipping me to _Montana_?" She opened her mouth, but I held my hand up. "What _cousin_?"

"He's twenty-six. His name is Leonard and he works-"

"Well, he sounds like a _blast_," I sneered. "You can't just-" I stopped. I was going to say _You can't just kick me out_, but she could. I took a deep breath. "Sending me away isn't going to make it any easier for you. Dad's still dead. Ig's still blind."

"And you still can't behave like an adult," she said. "Look at where we _are_, Max! Look at what our family has become, because of you!"

"I didn't give Dad cancer!" I shouted.

It was true. Whether I was at fault for Jason's death or not, I knew for a fact that I didn't have anything to do with what happened to my dad; that was just bad luck and even worse timing. That was just life.

She stared at me, silent.

"I wish-" she began, but she stopped herself, probably realizing that what she'd been about to say was atrocious, even for her. It was clear to me what she'd been about to say, though.

_I wish it had been you instead. _

I grabbed the ticket off the table.

"Yeah," I said softly. "Me too."

I stormed up the stairs, straight into my room. I realized I was still holding the plane ticket. It was for a plane that left Sunday morning, the morning after graduation. I knew what that meant; I didn't even have the summer to spend with Iggy and Fang. Our time together was going to end in less than a week.

I took a deep breath, setting the plane ticket on the bed. I pushed my hair back from my face, trying to think. It just wasn't _fair_.

"Max?"

I turned to see Iggy in the doorway of my room.

"Hey," I said, forcing my voice to sound normal. "What's up?"

"What did Mom want?" he asked, almost tentative, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not.

"Oh, um, Mrs. Carpenter is going to give me another chance to take the final," I said.

He nodded, his face relaxing. I couldn't tell him she was making me move to Montana; I couldn't do that to him. I just wanted to pretend that we were going to be okay. At least for the next few days, I could pull off protecting my brother. A least for a little while longer.

**A/N: You're probably thinking either: **

**1) This story is so real and sad and unfair. Love it!**

**Or **

**2) WTF THIS IS UNREALISTICALLY DEPRESSING PLEASE MAKE IT ALL FLOWERS AND HEARTS AND RAINBOWS NOWWW**

**Um. This story is, sadly, reality at it's harshest. (aka the title, cough cough) Buuuuuuut don't worry. Remember what I said at the beginning of the story?**

**THIS IS A FAX FIC. **

**So no worries, guys. It all works out in the end. It's just a less…conventional happy ending than most. **

**Review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: It's getting up there, ain't it? Only four chapters after this and, well, I'm really excited. **

**Great reviews, btw. If I had more free time, I'd respond to your wonderful reviews. Buuuut I don't have much free time on hand. But, I PROMISE, I will respond to every review for the 28****th**** chapter. Or, well, every review that isn't anonymous. (How am I supposed to respond to anonymous?!) Read on!**

**P.S. **_**This song is phenomenal**_**. THIS SONG IS PHENOMENAL. And quite fitting with the current chapters… I highly suggest you give it a listen. **

_This is a place where I don't feel alone; this is a place where I feel at home._

_-To Build A Home, Cinematic Orchestra _

MAX

He wasn't wearing a tie.

For, like, the first time in three years.

I closed the door to Dr. Jackson's office and sat down in my chair. I glanced at _Blue Nude _hanging behind his desk.

"Hey," I said, looking at him.

"I didn't expect…" he started digging in the filing cabinet for my file.

"I know," I interrupted. "But, Sheryl said you still had my appointments scheduled, so I figured…why not?"

He smiled. He finally got a hold of my file and came over to me.

"How are you, Max?" he asked.

"I…uh, I don't really know yet," I said. "I'm still…processing." About my dad. About Fang. About moving. Hell, about Jason, three years later. I'd had four days to think about it all since my mother kicked me out after graduation, and since graduation was tomorrow…well, I'd finally decided a few things. Finally accepted a few things.

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to record the session?"

He shrugged. "Do you want me to?"

I shrugged back. Dr. Jackson looked at me over his glasses. "I haven't seen you in a long time, Max. What's new?"

"I'm moving to Montana on Sunday," I said. My fingers itched to pick a the loose string that I knew was there, but I curled my hand into a fist. "I haven't told anyone, yet."

I'd gone all week without telling Iggy, Fang, Nudge, Tim - anyone. No one knew that I was leaving besides me and my mother. In fact, Fang and I hadn't talked about much. There had been a few times over the past few days where we had acted normal around each other, but then Fang would always try to talk about college or what to do about his acceptance letters, and I always just changed the subject. I could tell he was upset that I was ignoring the whole situation.

I wondered how he'd feel if he knew I was moving in two days.

"Why are you moving?"

"Because my mother is tired of having me around," I said. It wasn't hard for me to admit. "She thinks it will be best for everyone if I disappear. I can't say I disagree."

"How do you feel about this?"

"It kind of hurts, I'm not going to lie," I said. "But I think it's for the best. It's not like I really wanted to stay in Hayden, anyways."

He nodded.

"Max, do you remember the assignment I gave you months ago?"

I stared at him. He smiled. Then, he pushed his glasses up on his nose and said, "I asked you to think of a memory that makes you smile. Something that automatically brightens your mood."

I remembered that day. I'd spilled to Jack about Jason's death. He'd then explained _Blue Nude_ to me and told me to conjure a happy memory. Then I pretty much stopped seeing him altogether.

That had been right before my forbidden vacation with Fang to New York. Right before Fang helped me let go of Jason's death; right before I knew I had feelings for him.

_There were no words for how I felt in that moment. Fang held me tightly against his body, kissed me like he meant it, like he was speaking volumes with his mouth on mine. My senses succumbed to him, my body responded to him almost desperately, and I felt alive…_

Dr. Jackson had a weird look on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Looks like you found one, huh?"

I realized what he meant. My mouth had turned up into a smile, all on it's own. Just thinking about those few days with Fang, those kisses we shared and talks we had and memories we made together…I was smiling, just like that, in the midst of all the madness of my life.

"Well, so you've got your memory," said Dr. Jackson, his eyes full of wisdom. "Hold onto that, okay Max? Don't ever let that go."

I was still wrapping my head around the new feelings for Fang surfacing inside me when Dr. Jackson asked me the next question. "W-what?"

"What are you going to do now?"

I thought for a minute. I wanted to be with Fang; I wanted him to know that, even though I wasn't sure _what _I was feeling for him, I felt _something_. Even though the two of us were parting ways in two days, he was one of the most important people in my life.

What was I going to do? I was going to go find Fang.

But first, there was something else I needed to do.

"Dr. Jackson," I said finally, staring at _Blue Nude_. "How much do you want for that painting?"

• • •

"Graduation tomorrow, Max!" Mrs. Carter exclaimed, her face full of excitement. "What are you wearing?"

"Uh, I don't know yet," I said honestly, shrugging. She smiled. "Is Fang home?"

"Actually, he took your dad up to the market. Listen, Max, I wanted to talk to you."

Lana and I walked into the kitchen. "Your mom told me that you were going to Montana."

My heart stopped. "You haven't-"

"I didn't tell Jared, no," she said. I relaxed visibly. "Max…I want you to know that your dad was very proud of you."

Now I felt awkward and embarrassed. "I…I know."

"Your mom…she's just stressed, that's all. So much is happening at once. This may be for the best. I know that getting out of Hayden really helped Jared, after Jason died." Her eyes were full of sadness and knowledge. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think of what to say.

"Mrs. Carter…"

"I know, dear." She smiled sadly at me, and for a second I had to wonder if she really did know. She'd been through it before, anyway, and with her own son.

"Um…"

"Lana! Come on, you ready?"

I turned to see Fang and his dad coming through the front door, Fang carrying a couple of grocery bags.

"Yeah, hon, I just have to grab my purse." She took one of the grocery bags from Fang and, as she unpack the groceries, said to me, "Jared's grandparents are staying in a hotel an hour from here. They're coming to graduation tomorrow. Anyways, they wanted to have dinner. We're just going to stay at the hotel with them then drive them down here in the morning since they flew in and don't have a car."

"Yeah, and we're late!"

"You can't read a lock, Zach!" Lana called back.

"Touché," he shouted from the living room. "Now, come on!"

Lana smirked. She rounded the kitchen island, kissed my head and then Fang's cheek and headed for the door. "Lock up! See you tomorrow, _graduates_!"

The door slammed shut. Fang looked at me.

"We should go get Ig. We could all hang out, get some take out or something."

Fang shook his head. "Nope. Your brother scored tonight; he's finally got a real date with Ella."

"What constitutes as a real date?" I asked nervously. Fang and I were going to be all alone tonight, which meant we'd most likely have a serious talk. About school. About Montana. About us.

I flinched.

"Ella's at your house right now. I have no idea what he's got planned for her, but if four years of pining after her says anything, he probably went all out."

"Probably," I said. We sat in silence for a while.

"Max…" Fang began, almost at the same time I said, "Fang…"

I glanced up at him, smiling. I stepped back and hopped up onto the kitchen island, leveling myself with him. "You first."

"I don't…I have to make a decision. But I want to know what you think."

I chewed on my bottom lip, an action that Fang seemed to take great notice in. My teeth let go of my lip and Fang's eyes raised to meet mine. "I think it would be totally unfair for me to tell you not to go."

Fang sighed. "Max…"

"Where would you go, if you could have your first choice? Huh? Be honest."

Fang looked across the room, away from me, as if he were ashamed. "California."

My heart seized painfully in my chest and I gripped the counter.

"I don't want to lose you," I blurted. "And if I lose you…I already lost everyone else. I already…I can't…I just…"

Fang crossed the room and pulled me into him, giving me something to lean on. He stood between my legs and I put my hands on his chest. I immediately slumped against him, trying to breathe. He stroked my hair, kissing my forehead.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Fang whispered. He pushed my hair from my face, staring into my eyes. "Max, tell me you want me to stay, and I'll forget about school. Just tell me what to do." His voice was so desperate, so lost, I just wanted to kiss him.

But how could I tell Fang what to do with his life if I didn't even know what to do with mine? I knew if I told him to skip out on college and run away with me…well, I knew he'd do it. And I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't let Fang regret that for the rest of his life; he'd hate me.

No, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to just…let him go. It was the best, for both of us. I'd have to let him go.

Just…not tonight.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, willing myself not to get too sentimental. I wouldn't be able to live it down if I started crying, or something equally ridiculous.

"Fang, I…I want you to hold me, and be with me. And if I tell you to stop…" I pressed my mouth to his. I closed my eyes, breathing against his lips, "…don't."

**A/N: Y'all can just imagine what happens next. **

**Review. **


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I apologize for the sloppy mistakes in the last chapter. The most embarrassing was probably when I said "he took your dad up to the market". Um, obviously that was supposed to say "he took HIS dad up to the market". **

**Can we all just appreciate the image of Fang dragging a dead body into the grocery store? Nevermind. Too soon. **

**Three more chapters left! Keep the reviews rollin'! **

_Tell you what you want to hear, and give you what you need_

_-I Got Nothin', Darius Rucker_

MAX

So…go ahead and add kleptomania to my running-list of transgressions. I mean, sheesh. If we include lying to everyone about moving and having premarital sex, well then, I'd hit the trifecta. At least I was consistent in making bad decisions.

Why was I a klepto, you ask? I stole one of Fang's hoodies. Not because of the emotional, sentimental value, but because I couldn't find my shirt for my freaking life. So, I stole one of Fang's hoodies and was painfully reminded on my way home of the time I had to wear Jason's hoodie for the exact same reason. I forced myself to remember that it was _totally _not the same thing and barged into my house.

You can scold me later for leaving without a word to him, okay? He was in the shower! It wasn't my fault that he was in the shower at the same exact time I decided to stop pretending I was asleep.

Okay, maybe that _was _my fault…

Like I said, scold me later.

Graduation was in three hours. Not that I had to get ready or anything, but I _did _need to finish packing for Montana. Instead, I changed my shirt, threw Fang's sweatshirt onto my suitcase on my bed, and called Nudge.

I needed to have a girl chat. I needed Nudge's wise advice. I needed her to tell me that I wasn't a complete and total witch for getting myself and Fang in this position.

She didn't answer. I should've realized she'd be busy, with graduation and family in town and whatnot. I sighed, scrolling through my phone contacts.

Seconds later, it was ringing. "Hello?"

"I screwed up."

"Good morning to you, too, Max," Tim answered sarcastically. I could hear his family in the background. "How'd you sleep?"

"_In someone else's bed_," I ground out, shoving my feet into a pair of sneakers.

Tim sighed. "Where do you want to go?"

"Lou's. Five minutes."

"I'll be there in three."

I was about to walk out of the house when I heard Iggy call, "Guess who got lucky last night?"

"Shit," I cursed, turning to face my brother.

Iggy cackled. "I'm just kidding. But Ella does want a second date. It pretty much feels like the same thing." Then he froze, realizing I'd just cussed - and probably not at the thought of my brother getting laid (although, come on, yuck). "…What?"

"Nothing!" I said, too defensively. "Just…nothing."

"Max…" Iggy groaned, as if to say, _Not again. _

And then it dawned on him.

"Fang?"

"I gotta go, Ig. I'll see you later!"

"_Max_!"

I closed the front door behind me and stepped out onto the porch.

Don't think about it…don't think about it…don't think about it…

When I got to Lou's, I shoved my way into the small diner and walked all the way to the back, where Tim already had a booth.

"Hey, winner," Tim said, smirking. I slid into the booth across from him and grabbed his coffee, taking a long drink of it. It burned my throat like a mother, but I figured at this point I deserved it. "Whoa, there. I already ordered you hot chocolate. God, don't tell me you're hung-over, too. Showing up to graduation with a hangover is _so _unladylike."

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't drink last night. Although, come to think of it, I wish I did because then I'd have an excuse."

When Alice dropped off my hot chocolate, Tim stole a drink from it to make us even, then slid it across the table to me. "So, you slept with Fang. What now?"

"I'm moving to Montana," I blurted.

"Well, that's an interesting next step," Tim mused. "It was so bad you have to flee the state?"

I kicked him under the table, not appreciating his wit. "Mom kicked me out. Said I need to go live with my cousin. Said she's tired of my shit." I shrugged. "I'm tired of hers, too."

"So? When are you going? The end of the summer?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

"Tomorrow morning at seven thirty," I mumbled.

Tim gaped at me. "Tomorrow morning?" I nodded. "_Montana_?" I nodded again. "And…were you going to tell us this?"

"You're the first person I've told," I admitted miserably. "I haven't even told Iggy, yet."

"Damn, Max."

"I know," I breathed. "I don't know what to do."

"You haven't told Nudge? Or Fang?"

"Right," I said sarcastically, throwing my hands up. "Fang and I did _so much talking _last night!"

Tim leaned back, looking out the window. "I don't know what you want me to say, Max. You have to tell him. And Nudge, and your brother."

"The only reason I told _you _was because I thought you could give me some advice."

"I'm hurt. Max, I thought we shared something special," Tim joked.

I stood up. Now, it was time to go and face my dilemmas head on. Oh, and I really needed a shower.

"I'll see you later, Tim."

"Yeah, I've got this graduation thing going on later, in case you wanted to show up."

I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird.

"See ya, Max."

• • •

There weren't many kids in my graduating class. Since the town was so small, there were less than thirty seniors. Twenty-five, to be exact. There would've been twenty-six, but…

They had an empty seat for Jason. I thought it looked like torture, making Fang sit next to the seat meant for his dead brother. I guess it was supposed to be honorary in his memory, but it just made me sick looking at it. It was my excuse for not looking at Fang the entire time.

Nicole Jones was the valedictorian. I guess sleeping with other girls' boyfriends was something to put down on future résumés, because look at where it got her. I blocked out her entire speech. Mostly because I wanted to kick her in the face, but also because I was too busy thinking about what I was going to say to Fang. I'd avoided him all day (in person, of course - he was in my head like no other) and I knew he was going to corner me after the ceremony was over.

Last night…it made me realize a lot of things. Things I'd never felt before, things I'd never felt so _strongly _before, they all surfaced when I was with Fang. And the feeling that scared me the most was the one that I'd thought I had shared with Jason. The one that I'd tried to recreate with so many other guys _since _Jason.

I'd thought I'd loved Jason. I had thought he was the one. Then, Fang came out of nowhere and made my feelings for Jason look like an infatuation with no real substance.

Was I in love with Fang? I had no idea. All I knew was that he and I were about to part ways, maybe for a couple months, maybe for years, maybe forever. And maybe I'd never know for sure if I loved him or not. Or maybe I'd never know if he loved me.

Or, what scared me the most: maybe I'd never have the chance to find out.

Don't think about it…don't think about it…don't think about it…

I was so lost in my own little world that I didn't throw my cap with the rest of my class. In fact, as they all sat around and tried to find their original caps, I stood and escaped the crowd of crying, proud parents and shouting teenagers.

I spotted Fang's parents. Now or never.

I went over to them and Lana pulled me into a hard hug. "Congratulations, Max! We're so proud of you!"

I smiled. "Thanks. You seen-"

"Hey."

I felt a hand on my back just as I'd been about to say his name. I turned around, my breath catching for a minute. Fang's eyes were full of so much emotion and feeling that I had trouble focusing on what I was going to say.

"Let's go over there," I mumbled, pointing across the small park towards a big oak tree. Fang nodded. Together, we walked over to the tree and half-hid ourselves from the rest of the town.

Fang didn't look very happy with me. Which, I could really blame him. I'd totally ditched him this morning, and I was totally deserving of any anger he directed at me.

"Listen-" I began, but he stopped me with a hard look. I realized in that moment that I'd really screwed up. I had hurt him. I had hurt his feelings. Bad.

"If I had known that you would completely ignore me and avoid me…" Fang trailed off, looking away from me. My heart was slowly, agonizingly splitting in two.

"I just…I didn't know how to tell you…"

Fang watched me, waiting for me to spill. I sighed.

"Have you ever done something even though you knew you'd regret it?" I whispered.

"God, Max," Fang said, looking at me seriously. "I didn't know I was that bad."

I pushed my hair back, huffing. "Fang, this isn't about the sex, okay?"

Fang glanced behind me and then looked down at me, like, _Way to go_.

I turned around to see Nudge and Tim. Nudge's eyes were wide with surprise. Tim just smirked.

"Yeah, we'll…uh, we'll just loop back around," Nudge said, dragging Tim along with her.

I sighed in frustration, closing my eyes. I couldn't get my mouth to form words at the moment, so I pulled the plane ticket out of my pocket and shoved it at him.

He unfolded it.

"…Montana? But…I thought-"

I pointed across the park, where my mother was standing with Iggy and a few of her friends. "Satan over there is sending me to live with my cousin. Apparently, she can't stand being in my presence," I whispered.

"Max, this ticket is for tomorrow."

"I know," I said, kicking up dirt with my shoe. "One way."

Fang frowned. "What the hell, Max?"

I glanced up at him, surprised. "What?"

"Why…why did you wait until _now_? What's wrong with you?"

My jaw almost hit the ground. "Me? I didn't-"

"After everything, you tell me this? That we don't even…God, we don't even get the summer?"

"What, so we can push off the inevitable?" I retort, taking the ticket from him. "It's not like this wasn't going to happen, anyways. You're going to _California_, Fang! You'd be leaving me in three months either way."

"You're right," Fang said back, on his face a look of pain and something worse. "It's better if you leave within the next twenty-four fucking hours. That makes it a bit easier to digest."

"It's better than staying here and just waiting for you to leave me!" I cried.

"How is that _better_?" he demanded. He raised his hands to his hair, looking at me as if he'd never seen me before. As if last night, he hadn't held me like I was the only person in the world.

We stared at each other. I didn't know what to say. I didn't think he did, either.

"You don't understand," I whispered, choking back the feelings that were making it hard to breathe. I needed out of Hayden. As much as I wanted to be with Fang and my brother and Nudge and Tim, I needed away. Away from all the horrible memories of Hayden and away from my terrible mother.

"No," Fang said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don't."

Fang left me standing alone under the tree. He didn't even go back to his parents; he just left the park, crossed the street, and turned the corner, disappearing from my sight. I had a feeling I knew where he was headed.

"Max!"

I turned and saw Nudge waving me over with an urgent look on her face.

"Oh, my God, you and Fang! Talk, now!" she demanded in a shrill voice, grabbing my arms. I frowned.

"Nudge," I said slowly. "I have to tell you something."

"What? That you and Fang did it? I know _that_, Tim already filled me in."

"Oh, goodie," I said, glaring over Nudge's shoulder at Tim. "No, Nudge…I'm moving tomorrow. To Montana."

"What?"

I spun around. My brother was standing a foot behind me, a look of shock on his face. He shrugged my mom's hand off his shoulder.

"Max, you're _what_?"

"Moving to Montana," I barely whispered.

"Why?" Iggy demanded. He turned in my mother's direction. "You did this, didn't you? What is your problem? God, haven't we had enough shit to deal with? And now your shipping Max away?"

"James-" my mother began, her eyes narrowed at me.

"When are you moving, Max?"

"I…Tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow_?" Iggy practically yelled. "Why? What the hell?"

I stepped closer to him. "I know. I'm sorry. I promise, I'll explain later…it's for the best Ig. I promise we'll talk about it later."

"Max…"

"Remember? I've always got your back. _Always_." I was almost frantic, trying to get him to calm down. If this started a scene in front of the entire town, our lives were about to get ten times harder. The last thing we needed was more gossip about our family; not to mention the fact that my mother would explode if the town found out what a horrid bitch she was.

"I know," he said. "But…"

"I'll see you at home. I have to…I have to go find Fang."

I couldn't deal with them all right then. I needed to find Fang. I ran as fast as I could until I got to the cemetery. I saw Fang, in his cap and gown, standing at Jason's grave. I made my way down the hill.

"Fang?"

Nothing.

I stepped beside Fang, my shoulder brushing his. I looked down at Jason's gravestone and wondered if Jason and my dad were the only people I'd lost. I didn't dare look at Fang because I was afraid of what I'd see.

"What now?" I whispered. I wished he would grab my hand or put his arm around me or even look at me. Anything but stand, still as a statue next to me.

Then Fang said those three little words I'd been dreading; three words that pretty much made my decision for me.

"I don't know."

**A/N: Fang, you silly! Those are the wrong three little words! Duhh. **

**Review pleeeeease.**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I. Am. So. Exhausted. **

**After the worst week ever - tons of homework, a funeral, family drama, and NO time to write - I finally got this chapter done. **

**THEN I NEVER SAVED IT. WTFFFFF.**

**So, I rewrote it. And it turned out completely different. And I hate myself right now. **

**Anyways, thanks for the reviews. Here we go. **

_I hope I never have to see that day, but, by God, I know it's headed our way_

_- Boy's Gone, Jason Mraz _

MAX

Unfair.

The word was plastered on my brother's face as he sat at my desk in my room. I was packing up the last few things in my suitcase, trying to jam a couple of my dad's favorite novels into one of my bags. They'd been on the shelf in his office. He'd always wanted me to read them, I just…never had the time.

"God, I just don't get why you have to leave _tomorrow_," Iggy mumbled.

It was four hours after graduation. After Fang and my little fall-out, Ig and I had come home to talk about my sudden relocation situation. Mom went to Bible study, then was going to some banquet thing with Fang's parents a few towns away.

"I know," I mumbled. "But we'll make the best of it, okay? I'll call you every day; it's not like we'll never see or hear from each other. Plus, I'll come home to visit all the time. Okay?"

"Mom's insane if she thinks this will solve anything," Iggy said angrily.

"I know, but she and I need to be away from each other right now," I said.

Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door downstairs. "Your girlfriend's here," I said with a smile.

Iggy rolled his eyes, blushing. "Shut up." He stood up and dusted off his pants. "You sure you don't want to come?"

Tim was throwing a graduation party. He'd begged me to come, but I didn't really want to. "Yeah, I'm sure. Be careful."

"Okay. See ya."

Iggy left my room, and, minutes later, I heard the door shut. I went back to sorting through my things. I didn't know what else to stuff into my suitcases…

Fang's sweatshirt.

It was on my bed, the one I'd stolen from him this morning. I picked it up and, after a moment of deciding, threw it into my suitcase and zipped it closed.

I sighed, looking around my near-empty room.

"I'm sorry."

I almost jumped at the sound of his voice. I spun around and saw Fang standing in my doorway, his hair disheveled adorably and his eyes full of so much feeling I wanted to cry.

"I overreacted. I just…I thought we'd have the summer. I thought this would be easier if, well…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I hugged him, hard, burying my face in his neck. His strong arms tightened around me and he held me close.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've told you about moving, I just didn't know how to do it. I didn't-"

"I know," Fang whispered, kissing my hair. "It's okay. I know."

We clung to each other a moment longer, then he pulled back and brushed my hair out of my eyes. He smiled down at me, then glanced around my room. He pointed at _Blue Nude_, leaning against the wall in my room.

"Nice painting."

"Picasso," I said, stepping back. Fang walked over and sat on the end of my bed. "I bought it from Dr. Jackson. My, uh, shrink."

Fang nodded.

I don't know how it happened, honest. One second, Fang and I were awkwardly talking and edging around bigger, scarier feelings. Then, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, we were wrapped in each other, digging our way under my blankets and kissing each other with enough passion to set my house on fire. We tore at each others' clothes, almost desperately, and Fang asked raggedly if we were alone or not.

While he tugged off my shirt, I answered breathlessly, "Just us."

That was the last thing he and I said to each other all night.

• • •

Fang was gone when I woke up, and I just _had _to laugh.

Payback's a bitch, I guess.

I got out of bed and slipped into the shower. After about twenty minutes, I stepped out and pulled on some clothes. It was about six am, so Fang must've snuck out early. I had to be at the airport soon. I wished Fang would've stuck around so I could've said goodbye…

Or, maybe that was why he'd left. So I couldn't.

Sighing, I dragged both my suitcases down the stairs. In the kitchen, Tim, Nudge, Ella and Iggy were all sitting around the counter, talking and eating cereal and fruit. I grabbed an apple from the counter.

"This my goodbye party?" I asked.

"Please. We don't like you that much."

I scowled at Tim, who'd been the one to speak. He looked like shit.

"You hung-over, bud?" I asked loudly, slapping him on the back.

"Go to hell," he grumbled.

"Meet ya there," I said.

"You should've came to the party last night," Ella said.

"Yeah, what'd you do?" Tim asked gruffly. "Stay home, cooped up alone all night?"

"Um, not really," I said, blushing. "Anyone seen Fang?"

Iggy piped up this time. "Heard him sneak out around five this morning, if that's what you mean."

I ignored him. While I was at it, I ignored the sick feeling in my stomach. Fang wasn't here, and I'd have to leave soon. Was I not going to get to say goodbye?

"Where's Mom?"

"At church, working some charity booth thing."

"Well, looks like Mom and I don't get to share any teary goodbyes," I said wryly. "So? Who's driving me to the airport."

"Me, so hurry your ass up."

I looked over my shoulder to see Fang standing in the doorway to the kitchen. I smiled at him. He must've just taken a shower, because his hair was wet. He'd changed his clothes, too.

"Okay, okay," I mumbled. "Let me go get my painting."

After Fang's Jeep was loaded up and I'd said goodbye to everyone, he and I took off. It was almost an hour ride to the airport, and we spent it in silence with the radio on in the background. When we finally got there, Fang parked, killed the engine, then looked at me.

What could I say? I didn't know how to express my feelings for him. I didn't know how to say what I meant without screwing everything up.

_I don't know what exactly I feel for you, but I feel something. _

Yeah, no.

_I'm not sure if I love you, but I really, really like you. _

Um, after everything we'd done, I didn't think 'really, really like you' covered it.

I glanced at him. He was watching me, waiting, trying to figure me out. I sighed, giving him a trying look.

"Fang, I can't even explain how I feel about you right now," I whispered honestly.

Fang smiled lightly. "So, you aren't even going to try?"

I surged forward and hugged him. It was a hug just like the one we'd shared right after New York. The one we'd shared right before we found out my dad had cancer. It was full of unspoken words, unexplained feelings, and so, so much more meaning than I could ever say. I hoped he could understand. I hoped he knew what I was trying to get across to him.

"Fang, I…I…"

He smiled at me and crushed my lips to his, cupping the back of my neck. We kissed as if we'd never meet again, and it was incredible.

"I know, Max," Fang whispered as he pulled away. "Me too."

• • •

When my mother said _his name is Leonard_ - well, let's just say I wasn't picturing Leonardo DiCaprio. I was picturing some geeky guy with weird hair who made obscure references to even more obscure things - like, Leonard from _The Big Bang Theory_.

I don't know why - that was just the image I got.

Anyways. Leonard wasn't there to receive me at the airport Sunday afternoon. Instead, a woman stood near the baggage claim, holding a small cardboard sign that said _Max_ _Ride_. Her black hair was cut at her shoulders, her eyes a light hazel color. She was wearing a grey sweater with jeans and boots. She smiled when I came toward her, lugging my suitcases and painting with me. I was getting a lot of odd looks, but trust me, I was used to it.

"I thought the cardboard sign was something they only did in romantic comedies," I said. I mean, how was I supposed to know? I'd never flown anywhere in my entire life. Hell, the only time I ever left Virginia was to go to New York with-

No. Not right now.

She laughed. "I figured, why do it half-way?"

"Touché," I said.

She and I started weaving through the crowd towards the exit. "I'm Vanessa, by the way. Born and raised here, never been out of state my whole life. How was the plane ride? I've always wondered."

"Fine," I said shortly. "So, where's Leonard?"

"Oh, _God_," she snickered, leading me out to her car. "Don't call him Leonard when he's around - he'll never get over the embarrassment. It's just Leo. He's at the ranch, preparing your welcome home dinner."

Welcome home dinner. This place was my home, now.

Huh.

We drove for about an hour, both sharing a bit about ourselves. She steered clear of the topic of my dad, thankfully. I wasn't really ready to talk about it, yet.

"So, how do you know Leo?"

Vanessa turned down a long road that disappeared into the trees. "Oh, silly me. I'm Leo's girlfriend. We got together in high school and have been together since. What about you? Got a boyfriend?"

I shifted. "No."

Vanessa shot me an amused look. "Well, I hope you didn't come here for the man candy. The animal-to-people ratio is about 3-1."

I snorted. I was _not _there for the man candy. Nope. More because I needed to escape everything I'd ever known, combined with the fact that my mother pretty much disowned me.

"What about siblings? I have one brother, but he's five years older than me. Thirty. He calls me Mini-Van. It was a rough childhood."

I laughed, not unkindly. If I was going to be living with this girl, might as well be friendly. "I have one brother. His name is James. We're twins."

"Twins! How exciting!" she said, pulling up to a huge ranch house. "I bet the two of you had crazy fun as kids."

The four of us, actually.

I stared at the house in awe. Not only because it was beautiful - which it most definitely was - but because _this was where my dad grew up_. This was where my dad lived his entire childhood. I felt like I'd just gotten so much closer to him.

I pulled my suitcases out of the backseat of the car and followed Vanessa inside.

"Ness, come taste this. I can't tell if I burnt it or not." Out of an archway to my left, a man in his twenties appeared. His brown hair was a mess, pointing in every which way and direction. Behind his glasses, his eyes were blue. He did _not _look like Leonard from _The Big Bang Theory_. "Oh, I forgot you were going to get Max! Hey, cuz! I'm your Uncle Greg's son. Probably never met old Greg, either. His loss. Anyways, I'm Leo," He said all of it without taking any pauses, which reminded me so much of Nudge my heart ached. He stuck his hand out, his eyes eagerly searching my face. I took his hand and he shook it twice, hard. "All right, Ness. Come on."

He grabbed Vanessa and dragged her into the kitchen. I had no choice but to follow. There, he held out a spoon and forced her to taste a thick, brown broth.

"It's great, Leo," Vanessa said. She smiled at me. "He's usually the worst cook, but he wanted to impress you."

Leo shrugged, carrying the pot of what I assumed to be some kind of stew across the room. He set it down one a small brown table. Vanessa and I joined Leo at the table, and we got straight to dinner. It was some kind of meat stew and it was delicious. I had three bowls.

Leo pointed his spoon at me while I got thirds. "Yeah, when your mom asked if you could come live with me and Ness, I first wondered why you'd ever want to move all the way out here. Nothing rarely happens - nothing exciting, anyways."

"Now, that ain't true," Vanessa chided with a laugh.

"Oh, she's _right_," Leo said sarcastically. "Just yesterday, one of the horses got loose and started grazing in the wrong field. Breaking news! Front page and everything."

He rolled his eyes. Vanessa smiled at me. "It's a great place, Max. It should take your mind off things."

I nodded. That was just what I needed, wasn't it?

**A/N: Bleh. The first version was better. Review? **


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: This chapter contains a time skip, peeps. Thanks for the reviews!**

_Run, run, fast as you can; no one has to understand_

_-Kingdom Come, The Civil Wars_

MAX

Over the next few days, I learned more about my dad as a kid than he'd ever told me. I saw old pictures, drawings, postcards he'd sent home during his years abroad…tons of stuff. It was so cool.

The weekend after I moved in, Leo and I sat in the den, going through a box of stuff labeled _Jeb _in the attic. There were boxes up their belonging to all my aunts and uncles, and Leo and I decided to go through some of my dad's old stuff.

"Jeb and Baxter, 1973." It was a picture of my dad as a baby and a huge Great Dane, almost the size of a horse. My dad was on his back, giving the person behind the camera a toothless grin. I smiled, taking it from Leo's outstretched hand.

"Grandma must've saved all his old report cards," I said, pulling old documents out of a manila envelope. "Looks like my dad wasn't much better'n I am in math and science."

Leo laughed. He reached over and grabbed the picture of my dad and the dog. Then, softly, Leo said, "You know, your dad was lucky to have suffered for such a short time."

I glanced up at him.

"When Ma died," he said lowly, "Dad wasn't home. No one was, but me. She had cancer, too. It's genetic in the family, I guess, because it was a brain tumor, too. There were practically no symptoms - not until it was too late. But, Jesus, she suffered on hospice for months." He scratched his head. "You know, they say once a patient goes on hospice, it won't be much longer. But she suffered for _months_. It just slowly ate her away until she didn't look like Ma anymore. And…that's all I see when I think of her, now."

I sat, silent, not knowing what to say to him.

"I was alone with Ma the day she passed. She'd been going in and out of consciousness all week, and finally, she called me in to sit with her. I sat down next to her and she said, " 'Leonard, when I go, open a window. I want a nice, clean exit out of this place.' So, when she died, I opened every dang window in the house." He sighed. "Then I had to call Pop and tell him. Your uncle Greg, Max, he wasn't a very religious man at the time, but he's prayed every day since Ma left, praying for her soul and his and all of ours. It really changed him, you know."

I smiled, and Leo smiled back at me. "Hey, kid, I found something."

I scooted over next to him and peered at the picture he was holding.

"That's Dad, and that's…who _is _that?"

Leo barked out a laugh. "That's your mom, goof."

My eyes widened. They were young, probably freshmen in college. My mother looked _completely _different. There were three pictures in the photo strip. The first one, they were smiling. The second one, my dad was crossing his eyes and my mom was sticking her tongue out. The last one, they were kissing.

The hatred for my mother melted in that exact moment. She'd loved my dad so much. All she'd ever wanted was perfect life, having gone through so much hardship as a kid. After losing both her parents at the same time, she'd had to live with my grandma and grandpa, two very hard-hearted people. And, well, of course she'd wanted a perfect life. She'd tried so hard to make everything in her life picture-perfect, though, that she went a little psycho along the way. That was no reason for me to hate her. Hating her wasn't going to do either of us any good.

"Can I keep this?" I asked softly.

"It's all yours, Max. It was all your dad's, anyways."

I took the photo strip and sat back, marveling at it.

"Knock, knock!"

A man with dusty brown hair and dark brown eyes popped into the den. "Hey Leo. I fixed that saddle for you."

"Thanks, I'll pay you tomorrow," Leo said, standing up. "Ness' making some lunch, if you want to stay."

"Sure," the guy said, nodding. His eyes were fixed on me, though. "Hey. I'm Matt."

"Max," I said, standing up, too.

"You're the cousin, huh?"

I glanced at Leo. He shrugged. "Like I said, not a lot happens up here."

"Yeah," I said finally. "I'm the cousin."

"Well, it's a pleasure. I used to come over here and do stuff for your grandparents when I was about ten. They'd have me do chores around the ranch, and, in exchange, they'd let me ride the horses all I wanted. They told me quite a bit about your dad and his siblings."

I nodded. "Yeah, my dad was a character."

Matt smiled.

"So, lunch?"

"Yeah," Matt said, still smiling at me. "I'll stay for lunch."

At the table, Matt and I played the get-to-know-you game. He was twenty, splitting his time between the ranch and work so he could raise money. When I asked what for, he said he was planning to go to Brazil in the fall.

"You can come, if you want. I already got most of the money saved up. Just working the summer to secure my funds a bit. If you want a job, I could get you one. I've been looking for a travel buddy ever since my friend, Ross, moved out of state. Got himself a wife, now - a wife who doesn't see a trip to Brazil in her husband's future." He smiled cheekily.

Brazil. Going to Brazil. God, that sounded _amazing_.

"Yeah," I said finally. "That sounds…that sounds awesome."

"Cool. I'll tell my boss. You can start work this week."

I helped Vanessa take the plates to the sink. Matt stood up and stretched, then said he had to get to work. I walked with him outside to see an old black BMW. It was ancient, but in good condition.

"Nice car," I said. He shot me a dry look and I smirked. "Seriously! Wish I had a car."

"Well, I'm buying a new one. Make me on offer on this one and maybe she won't be scrap metal, after all."

"I might just do that."

• • •

Talking to Matt was easy.

He got me a job in town at the local market. It wasn't a gold mine, but slowly I started saving up more and more money. After work, Matt would drive me home and we'd talk.

I told him about all of my past drama with Dylan and my reckless, partying days with Nudge and Tim. I told him about Jason; how we were together, what he was like. I even told him about Jason's death. I told him about my brother, how he was blind and sarcastic but hilarious and sweet, once you got to know him. I told him about my dad, and how his death came so quickly and shook the entire town of Hayden to the bones. I also spoke about my mom, and how I wondered if she and I would ever see eye to eye.

Then I told him about Fang. I told him…_everything _about Fang. About the things we'd done, the times we'd shared, and how I wasn't sure if I loved him or not but I thought about him all the damn time - so much it hurt.

Matt was a great listener, very understanding and very accepting. He told me that his parents had gotten divorced when he was young, and since his dad wanted nothing to do with him, he'd moved here with his mom. He'd met my grandparents and fell in love with horses. He'd dropped out of college; told his mother he wanted to explore the world rather than learn about it in a classroom. He'd even given up his scholarship to pursue exploration instead.

"We shouldn't just listen to someone else's stories about the world," Matt said. "We should make our own stories, don't you think?"

And I did think so.

After a couple of weeks, I went from longing for my friends back in Hayden to having to remind myself to call. By the time September rolled around, I knew Fang was in California already and my brother was in school. I'd gotten the beat-up old BMW from Matt. In two days, he and I were scheduled to leave for Brazil for two months.

So, I sat down and wrote a letter to my brother. He'd have to have someone read it to him, obviously, but I didn't mind.

_Hey, Ig: _

_Long time, no talk. I miss you like crazy. Been working for a while and bought a shitty car from my friend, Matt. He's pretty cool. Reminds me a lot of you, sometimes, with how annoying he can be and all. Ha-ha. _

_Anyways, in a couple days, Matt and I are going to South America. We're going to explore Brazil. I'll be home for Thanksgiving, so don't worry, we'll see each other really soon. I'll write you…send postcards and stuff. _

_Tell Fang I said hi, and that I hope he's doing okay at college. Haven't talked to him in ages, so tell him I miss him, too. Tell Tim and Ella and Nudge the same. Hopefully, when I come home, I'll have some exciting stories to brighten up your boring everyday life, eh?_

_Sorry I haven't been calling lately...life's gotten pretty hectic. Love you! Hope school's good._

_P.S. I found this photo strip of Mom and Dad. Give it to Mom, okay? And tell her…well, tell her she'll always be my mom, no matter what. And I love her, anyways. And tell her I've been going to church. And tell her I…well, I miss you all. Okay?_

_Talk to you soon, _

_Max_

**A/N: In your review, **_**please **_**tell me whether you'd like to see my next story be one of these two: **

**1) **_**The Maybe Side of Life**_**: my 'pretend TAE never happened'/ 'Max gets her expiration date' story**

**OR**

**2) **_**The Plan**_**: my 'alternate ending to Fang' story**

**Both are pretty well developed (number 2 being a bit further developed than number 1) and I like them both. **

**BOTH ARE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS ONE. **

**So, tell me which one interests you more, and whichever you guys think sounds better is the one I'll sneak-pe****ek in chapter 28 - the epilogue.**

…**And, if you don't want me to write another story at all…too bad. **

**Confused? PM me. **

**Excited? I am. **

**Review for the epilogue!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Epilogue: **_**One year later…**_

_I wonder what it's all about._

_-The Hardest Part, Coldplay_

MAX

Death isn't about teaching a lesson.

Don't get me wrong, I definitely learned a few things from death. But that's not the _point _of dying; not the point of losing people you love. It's just a bonus.

Death is a part of life. It happens everywhere, every day, and it isn't the death that's particularly hard but the _aftermath _that sucks. The loss that fills you in the days after someone's death, the pain of being without that person, that's hard. But it's a part of life.

Accepting death is the worst part. It's the hardest part to wrap my head around, even now. Even almost an entire year after my dad's death, four years after Jason's death…I'm still afraid of the day I'm going to wake up and not hurt. I've hurt for so long now that I'm afraid to stop. Does that mean they're not important to me anymore? Does that mean I've forgotten them? Does that mean I've accepted losing some of the most important people in my life?

I don't know. What I do know is that after months of crying over my dad, I woke up one day and his death was just a part of me. It's wasn't like the hurt was gone, it wasn't even that it hurt _less_, it was just that it became a part of my life. I don't know, maybe that was accepting it. Or maybe I'm still just coping, and the acceptance comes much, much later. I don't know for sure.

Another thing I learned from death was that it came at the right time. Whether we realized it or not. When my dad got sick, I wasn't mad at death - I was mad at the disease. I was angry that cancer was slowly killing my father from the inside, out. I was mad at the _sickness_, not death. I shouldn't have been asking, _Why did he have to die? _If anything, it should've been, _Why did he have to get cancer? _After suffering from brain cancer, I guess…well, I guess death was a blessing. I definitely didn't want my father to _suffer_.

I also learned that even though there will always be death, there will always, always, _always _be life.

And I think that's pretty important to remember.

Don't you?

• • •

As soon as he steps out of the house, I surge into my brother's arms. I haven't hugged Iggy in ages. Iggy's laugh erupts in my ear, and I grin into his chest, squeezing him in a strangling hug. He's taller, way taller, and more like a man now.

"How was Brazil?" I hear, and I pull back to examine him.

"Amazing," I breathe. "How's Ella?"

Iggy smirks. "Amazing. Where are we going?"

I pull my brother to my car. It's a beat-up, piece of shit, but I love it and it runs - for now. Once inside, I start the engine and say, "I haven't had a decent milkshake in ages."

"Lou's it is."

I am soaking up the familiar look of the town. Hayden Virginia, population 204. Except, the sign was wrong. Since the last census, the town had gain three families. Population 223. They were growing like _crazy _these days.

"It's so good to see you," I say, still elated from finally seeing him for the first time in months. "God, Ig, are you working out?"

He shrugs modestly. I laugh, pulling up to the curb outside Lou's and killing the engine. "Come on, I'm starving."

"Max!"

As soon as I walk through the door, Tim spots me and gets up. He's with the usual crowd; everyone must be home from school on break. Midterms or something.

_He looks as big and cuddly as ever_, I think wryly as Tim scoops me up, squeezing the hell out of me with a gigantic bear hug. I choke out another laugh, pounding on Tim's chest until he sets my feet on the ground again.

"Look at _you_!" he says with amusement.

"I know what you're thinking," I say. "_How is that girl still alive_?" I honestly think that about myself, too, sometimes.

Tim smirks. "You nailed it. Come on, you and Jimmy are on me."

Iggy rolls his eyes, following Tim and I to the counter. "Don't call me Jimmy. It's James or Iggy."

"Whatever you say, Jimmy."

Tim sits down and, after Ig and I order, looks at me.

"So? How was Brazil?"

"Incredible," I say. "It was so, so cool. We took a lot of pictures, but Matt's got the camera, so…"

"Matt? Anyone we should be meeting?" Tim says, elbowing me hard in the ribs.

"They're just friends, Timothy," Iggy said, imitating a high, female voice.

"We _are_," I laugh. "And stop trying to mimic me!"

Tim sniggers, then thanks Alice for giving the shakes. When I reach up to take the cherry of the top of mine, Tim gasps and grabs my wrist, pinning it to the counter.

"What?" I ask in annoyance. "You want the cherry?"

Tim flips my wrist over and I blush. There, on the inside of my wrist, is my small tattoo of a simple: _JC._

_JC_.

Jason Carter.

Jared Carter.

They were both important to her, both for different reasons. Jason was her very first _anything_. The first boy who'd ever put butterflies in her stomach; the first boy who'd ever said he loved her. The first boy to kiss her, the first boy to touch her and send shivers up and down her spine.

Fang…

She'd always _thought _she'd loved Jason. But when Fang kissed her, the world was _better_. Everything was amazing, and everything felt possible, and life made a little bit of messed up sense. Fang…Fang was the first man Max fell in love with. The _only _man.

"You got a tattoo?" Tim asks in surprise.

"Uh, two, actually," I say, embarrassed.

"What's it say?" Iggy asks, ready to make fun of me for getting a dorky tattoo.

"JC," I say quietly, because Tim seems to have realized what it stands for and is now looking at me in a peculiar way.

Iggy smiles just slightly. "Did it hurt?"

"Not nearly enough," I joke.

Tim guffaws. "Masochistic Max!"

"Wait, where's the other one?" Iggy demanded. "Oh, God, don't tell me-"

"_No_," I protest. "Jesus, Iggy. I'm not an idiot. It's on my hip. It's a dove. For dad."

We drink our milkshakes.

"Too bad you didn't get here last week," Iggy says. "Fang was home for fall break."

"Uh, Matt and I are going to see him, actually," I say, stirring my shake. "Matt's brother lives in California, anyways, so…He said we'd road-trip it together."

"How's living with Leonard?" Iggy says.

"_Leo _is fine, so's Ness. Leo told me he's going to propose on Christmas," I say softly, as if Ness will hear me all the way from Montana. "The two of them are absolutely perfect for each other."

Iggy and Tim both nod.

"How's Mom?"

"She's good," Iggy says. "Keeping herself busy. Gotten a lot better."

I smile, because that's what I want to hear. We all have to heal somehow. I've healed, my mom has healed, and though we'll never be whole again…what can you do about it?

The three of us sit and catch up for almost an hour, drinking our milkshakes and enjoying each others' company. Finally, I stand and give both of them strong hugs.

"I'll see you later," I say.

"You're leaving?" Iggy asks, bewildered.

"Not until tomorrow," I reassure him quickly. "I'm just…gonna go spend some quality time with Jay for a bit. Okay?"

Iggy nods in understanding. Tim throws money onto the counter for the shakes and he and Iggy start talking about something I don't really care about.

On my way out, I run right into Nudge.

She looks different. She's dyed her hair dark brown rather than her natural caramel locks, and they're pulled back with a sparkly headband. She's beautiful, as usual, and she holds herself with a kind of confidence she must have lacked in high school.

"Max! Iggy told me you'd be in town. Oh, my God! How was Brazil? Did you go to the Igazu Falls? Did you see _Cristo Redentor_? Holy shit, is that a tattoo?"

"Hey, Nudge," I say, finally getting a word in. Nudge crushes me in a tight hug and I squeeze her back.

"It's so damn good to see you!" Nudge says excitedly. "How long you in town?"

"Um, until tomorrow. Gotta fly out to see Fang."

Nudge's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Right. Gotcha. Of course."

She winks and I roll my eyes.

"I'll see you in a bit, Nudge," I say. Then I walk across the street, into the woods, and find my old path. In minutes, I'm in the cemetery, on the hill, looking down at all the tombstones.

I spot Jason's and head directly for it.

_Jason Carter, beloved son…_

I sit by Jason's grave for a long time, thinking and reminiscing and reliving moments from the past. Hours go by and, before I realize it, it's already dark.

I stand and go to my father's grave, a row away from Jason's. The last time I'd been there, the pile of dirt had been as fresh as the pain my heart. Now…

"I hope you're proud of me, Dad," I say, and if I close my eyes I can picture him, clear as day. "I love you."

• • •

"What's the dorm room, again?" Matt asks as we walk into the hall. I glance down at a letter from Fang, written months ago.

"Uh, 3241."

"3241," Matt repeats. "Does he know you're coming?"

"Nope," I say, popping the 'p'. I am nervous as hell about this little detail. Fang has no idea I'm in his dorm building. Fang has no idea that I'm here to see him for the first time in months. Fang also probably has no idea what to expect, because I am a completely, totally different person now.

"Well, here it is. Knock away," Matt says. He leans back against the wall opposite of Fang's dorm and gazes lazily at me as I struggle with my inner demons. Maybe I shouldn't…

"Should I have called?"

Matt responds with a dry look. "Knock on the damn door, Max."

I sigh. Before I can stop myself, I lift my fist and knock firmly on the door, twice.

"Go the fuck away!"

I roll my eyes. "Now, is that any way to greet your best friend?"

The door is pulled open a split-second later. Fang looks, well, shocked to see me. He stares down at me through a Fang-sized crack in the door, speechless. I can't help but grin; he looks exactly the same.

"Hey, Fang."

Fang stares, eyes wide, and doesn't move a muscle. "Max, God…I didn't know you were…"

"Um, can I come in?"

Fang scratches his head. "Gee, Max, I would let you, but, uh, there's this, uh, problem, and, well…"

Fang starts stuttering and mumbling. For a second, I actually thinks he's got a _girl _in there. Then, as someone else starts to try to open the door, Fang's stuttering and mumbling turns frantic.

"And, he, uh, he has this-"

The door flies open behind Fang and there stands Fang's roommate, in all his naked glory.

"_Okaaay_, you don't have any clothes," I mumble, looking up at the ceiling.

"That's right, girlie! We're in college! No one has clothes on, _ever_! It's _awesome_."

"Fang, you didn't mention your roommate was from a nudist colony," I joke. The naked guy grins.

"Aw, Jared, she's funny! Come here, woman."

He picks me up and hugs me, despite my disgusted protesting. I try not to gag.

"Come on, Todd, cut it out. Go put some pants on," Fang says, shooting me a million apologetic looks. His face seems to say, _I tried to save you. _I wipe the naked germs off as best I can. Fang glances over my shoulder at Matt. "This Matt?"

I nod. "Can we come in?"

Fang steps back and lets us into the tiny dorm room.

"So," I say. "How's college?"

"It's good," Fang says. "How was Brazil?"

My eyes brighten. "Fang, it was _so _amazing. I don't even know how to explain it…"

"It was a great trip," Matt says. Obviously, he's trying to move this conversation along and get Fang and I where we need to be - together. "Max even got a tattoo."

Matt flips my wrist over and displays the _JC _tattoo inked into my skin. I feel heat creeping up my cheeks and glance up at Fang, worried to see his reaction. His eyes soften when he sees it.

"Matt," I ground out, "Why don't you go do something somewhere else?"

Matt smirks. "Sure thing."

He ducks out of the dorm room, shutting the door behind him. Fang's roommate pulls on sweats in the corner and, once he's clothed, leaves, muttering something about a vending machine.

I sit on the end of Fang's bed. I see his laptop is open; the screensaver is _Blue Nude_. My heart squeezes.

"I missed you, Fang," I say honestly, looking around the room.

"I missed you, too," Fang says, watching me with a fire in his eyes.

I look him dead in the eye. "I didn't wait for you."

It's true; I hadn't really had boyfriends, but I'd been with other guys. In the past year, there'd been three guys that I'd been with. Neither of the compared to Fang, but hey, who could really compare to Fang, anyways?

"I didn't wait for you, either," Fang says with a smirk.

I stand up so we're almost face-to-face. I frown.

"I can't believe you cheated on me," I say jokingly. Fang smiles. Then, he grabs my face and kisses me, as if he's been waiting to do that for a year. I can taste in his mouth that he's been smoking - a habit he'd picked but had sworn in a letter to me last month that he'd quit. I don't even care. I kiss him regardless.

Who cares if we're on different life paths? Who cares if we live across the country from each other? Who cares if maybe we don't understand our feelings yet?

We're together right now, and that's what matters.

My dad, his brother, all our hardships and tragedies…everything from our pasts make us who we are today. Fang and I know the importance of living, know that death is closer than most people think, and so we hold each other and kiss each other and live in the moment because, really, the moment is all we have.

But I like to think we've got the future, too. A great, big, mysterious future, one that I am ready to face with Fang by my side.

A future.

Yeah, that'll be nice.

**A/N: CUEBIGSIGH. **

**Um. Mega thanks to all my incredible reviewers who inspire me every single day and make this story worth sharing. YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. I hope you liked it, hope you don't hate me for ending it so soon. I think it turned out okay…**

**Did you guys notice the title of the song at the top!?**

**Okay, after tallying up the votes, most of you wanted **_**The Plan**_**. Which, by the way, makes me sooooo happy because I absolutely love this story so far. There are a few OCs, tons of FAX, tons of action…all the good stuff. I still have no idea when it will be uploaded, so be patient. My goal for uploading is January, hopefully more towards the beginning of the month. Maybe that will work, maybe not. We'll see! **

**Here's the REALLY LONG (I decided to spoil you) sneak peek.**

_**[The Plan]**_

When Fang first heard my idea, he told me I was nuts.

I was fifteen and the apocalypse was practically breathing down my neck, and I was trying to keep us on all task and not at each others' throats, but…

Quite frankly, I wasn't sure keeping us all together was the best executive decision.

Again, when I told Fang this, he told me I was being ridiculous and that I was just stressed - we _had _had a tough day. I mean, just hours ago Fang had been declared dead in a crazy psycho's lab. After he'd woken up, everyone was in shambles. The others had just kicked me out days before, and now this happened to Fang?

Seeing Fang almost die had made them realize how stupid they all were for trying to get rid of me. In fact, when I'd automatically picked up my leader roll again and told them to follow me so we could find a hotel, no one questioned. The remorse was rolling off them in waves. Good riddance.

After they were all asleep, Fang and I went flying. We landed in a tree and talked for awhile - mostly about what the next step would be for the flock.

I said, "I have an idea."

Fang watched me questioningly.

"What if," I said slowly, "we split?"

Fang's eyebrows drew together with thought. "We can't just ditch them. You see how good that turned out? Jeb got shot and I died."

I smiled lightly at that. "No, what if the flock splits up?"

Fang stared at me like I'd just bitten off his arm. While yodeling. And juggling torches. With my feet.

"What happened to _we can never split up again_?"

I stared at him seriously. "Right now, it's too hard for us to focus. It's too hard for _anyone _to focus. A year ago, we all had the same goal; all knew what we had to do. Now Angel is power hungry, Iggy's love-struck, and Nudge wants a real life. The only one not having a complete crisis is Gazzy, and that's because he's a prepubescent boy who only cares about blowing shit up."

"_Iggy's _love-struck?" Fang mumbled.

"Okay," I said, feeling my face flame up. "We're also part of the problem." I sighed. "It doesn't feel real to them, Fang. We've been chasing this save-the-world thing for a year and it feels like it'll never happen. Maybe if we…split up…we'll have a motivation. Like, if one half went west and the other half went east, everyone would focus better."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, there would be less distractions within the groups, for one. But, also, we'd want to get the mission out of the way so we could all see each other again. Like, bribing ourselves."

Fang leaned back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms. "And if we all just decide that we like it better away from each other?"

I rolled my eyes. "Then I guess we'd kiss the mission goodbye and move on with our short, lonely lives."

Fang looked me in the eyes. "I think this is a crazy plan. I don't think the others would go for it - or even understand our reasoning. We've been together all our lives."

I chewed on my lip.

"We put them through a lot," Fang said finally. "They're just kids. All six of us, together…it's all they've ever known. We can't take that away from them. I mean, we've been trying to spring our relationship on them, and they're flipping shit."

"Which is so stupid," I fumed. "Can you even remember a time when they weren't trying to push us onto each other?"

Fang smirked. "Yeah. When none of them were born."

I bit my thumbnail, trying to think.

"What if…one of us left?" I asked softly.

Fang frowned at me. "Shut up, Max. You're ridiculous."

"They don't want me here, anyways - they already tried to get rid of me once. And it is _my _mission. Maybe I should just go and do it myself."

Fang stood up on the branch, looking out over the trees around us. "You used to think you needed us."

"I know I do," I said, standing up, too. My wings were spread behind me for leverage, but I grabbed his arm to balance myself. And, maybe because I just wanted to hold him. "But maybe this is the right thing."

Fang didn't say anything. He turned toward me and put his arms around my shoulders.

Finally, he said, "You're stressed. We don't have to decide what to do now. Let's just go back and get some rest and talk about it tomorrow."

But the next morning, when I went to check us out of the rooms, Fang followed me down. He came over to me and said, "If you're stuck on this idea of removing distractions and motivating yourself to save the world…I'll leave."

"Ha, ha," I said, shoving him aside so I could get to the elevator.

Fang's expression was anything but funny. "You're the leader. You can't ditch them."

I raised an eyebrow at him. Was he serious?

"And you can?" I tested, feeling like the Fang standing in front of me wasn't the Fang I knew. "You're stupid." It wasn't the best insult, but I couldn't come up with anything better to show how I felt about what he'd just said. If he thought the flock could go on without him, he needed a sincere reality check.

"Listen. They obviously have a problem with us," Fang said with a determined look on his face. I'd seen that look a million times, when he was fighting, when he was running, when he was pulling me into his arms. Now it felt completely different. "I'll go. Just for a while. We won't tell them, though. We'll just make it look like I'm gone for good. Maybe it'll sink in and they'll get their acts together so we can go finish the damn mission already."

I stepped into the now opening elevator and Fang ducked in beside me. As the doors closed, I said, "Did you get any sleep last night, or did you stay up all night making this plan?"

Fang shot me the ever-so-popular grin. "You expected me to go to sleep? Right after you said you were going to skip out on me?"

"And what are you saying to me? Huh? The exact same thing? Damn, Fang, at least let me be the one to ditch you."

Fang rolled his eyes. "You've been ditching me ever since I first kissed you, idiot."

I frowned. "Fine. But I am going to make you look like such an ass no one's going to want you back."

Fang shoved his hands in his pockets. "Except you, right?"

I smirked. "Maybe. But you want us to lie?"

"Not lie," Fang hedged carefully. "…Pretend."

We stared at each other, wondering why we were even considering this. Wondering whether or not it would work.

And thus, the plan was born.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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